


Fragile Things

by bluesuedeshoes



Series: Olicity Drabbles [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 04:11:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 35,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1884726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluesuedeshoes/pseuds/bluesuedeshoes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection of drabbles from Tumblr prompts I've received, housed here for convenience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reality Check

**Author's Note:**

> The collection title is an homage to Neil Gaiman's collection of short stories "Fragile Things," which is divine, by the way. Do yourself a favor and check it out sometime. It's a great addition to any bookshelf.

**Prompt: "It was real."  
**

 

 _It was real.  It was real.  For God’s sake, Felicity, IT WAS REAL!!!!_   Oliver kept his facial expression schooled as he watched Felicity work her magic on a monitor, pulling up information that Diggle had just asked her.  He was biting his tongue so hard it was almost bleeding.

This was becoming a daily ritual, really.  Ever since his staged “I love you,” for the sake of taking down Slade, he was having difficulty keeping his mouth shut.  The words ‘It was real,’ kept playing over and over in his head, trying to will themselves to form on his tongue.  Being around her was becoming almost torturous because he had to constantly fight back the urge to explain to her that he had meant every word of that, that it had taken every bit of self-control he had not to sweep her into his arms and kiss her for all he was worth.

In other words, it was becoming increasingly difficult to function normally.

At the end of the night, Roy, catching Oliver glowering in the corner as the group began gathering themselves to head home, walked up to his mentor and, tired of watching the dance, asked him, “So when are you gonna tell her?”

Surprised, Oliver looked up.  “Tell who what?”

“Felicity.  That it was real.”

Oliver opened his mouth to reply but before he could, Felicity appeared and interrupted.  “Tell me what was real?” she asked curiously, clearly having no idea what they were talking about.

 _I’M FUCKING IN LOVE WITH YOU!_ Oliver’s mind screamed at her.  “I…uh….”

Roy was looking at him expectantly.

“The um…necklace…I know I promised you I wouldn’t spend too much money on you for your birthday, but…it was real gold.  Sorry.”  He tried to ignore the way Roy rolled his eyes and walked away.

Felicity scoffed a laugh.  “Oh Oliver,” she sighed, patting his arm gently.  “You have no self control, do you?”


	2. Hard to Explain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: DIGGLE baby shopping. And press catches wind that Oliver is shopping for a baby ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went for “social media” instead of the press, but hopefully you’ll like it anyway!

“Thank you so much for coming along for this.  I’d be lost.”  
  
Felicity shrugged, happily winding her way through the baby department of the store.  “It’s all good.  I needed to get them a gift for the shower, too.”  She found a onesie with the words ‘Daddy’s Little Princess’ written on it and held it up for Oliver to see.  “What about this?”  
  
He quirked an eyebrow.  “It doesn’t really seem like Digg.”  
  
She chuckled.  “You’ll be surprised when the little girl gets here.”  But she put it back anyway.  “Ooh, wait!” she said delightedly, bouncing up and down when she spotted a soft patchwork blanket on a shelf.  “This is perfect.  The baby will love it.”  
  
Oliver wasn’t listening as she placed the blanket in his hands.  He was staring out the window of the department store in concern.  There was a small group of people gathered who obviously recognized him because they were all staring at him and Felicity, who was now holding up another onesie for him, which comically read ‘My Parents Got Busy.’  
  
One of the people outside was holding up his cell phone and recording them.  
  
He looked back at Felicity, who still hadn’t noticed that they were about to be plastered all over YouTube, shopping for baby things.  
  
…this was going to be very difficult to explain later.


	3. Immediately and Without Thought—Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Oliver's injected with the willpower drug, pre-relationship.

Felicity frowned, looking down at her phone.  “I’m really sorry, Daniel.  I just…I have my phone set to only go off if someone calls twice in 3 minutes.  So this might be important…” she trailed off, looking at him apologetically.

He waved a hand.  “It’s fine.  I know you’re a busy person.  I’m just glad I finally convinced you to come out with me at all,” he winked at her.

Smiling at him, Felicity tapped the green button on her phone and excused herself from her table.  “Roy,” she ground out.  “This had better be good.  You guys swore not to disturb me.  I—”

 _“Felicity, are you still out with Daniel?”_ Roy asked, sounding panicky.

“Yes, I—”

_“You need to change locations.  Like…yesterday.”_

She frowned.  “What?  Why?  Is something wrong?  What’s wrong with this restaurant?”  She looked around.  It seemed like a perfectly normal establishment.

_“I…just…leave, okay?  And remember: it wasn’t my fault.”_

Her frown deepened as she grew more concerned and not a little annoyed.  “What wasn’t your fault?  What’s going on?”

 _“It’s…okay, it was a little bit my fault.  But only partly!  I just mentioned you were on a date.  Digg was the one who told him what restaurant you were at!”_ Roy added hurriedly.

“What?  What are you talking about?”

_“I didn’t know it was a secret, okay!  And it’s not my fault he got injected with that…that…stuff!”_

“Roy, what—” Felicity broke off, the door of the restaurant swinging open.  “Roy,” Felicity deadpanned, “What is the Arrow doing on my date?”

 _“FELICITY GET OUT OF THERE!  JEEZ!”_ Roy yelled at her.  But he was too late.  Oliver had spotted Felicity, and he was stalking towards her.  People in the restaurant had noticed and some people were letting out gasps and screams, backing away for safety.  Daniel was on his feet, seeing that the hooded man’s path was leading him directly to Felicity.

Felicity would have liked to have told Oliver off.  Whatever stunt he was pulling, she was not amused.  But there were too many people around for her to be talking so familiarly.  She didn’t hear Roy, still on the other line, trying to warn her that Oliver wasn’t exactly himself.

A moment later, though, she sensed it.  Something was definitely not right.  She started backing up, until she found herself up against a wall, quite literally.

Whatever she was expecting, it was not for him to duck down and press his lips to hers in a searing, passionate kiss.  Felicity let out a noise of surprise, too stunned to respond, but not exactly unaware of the rush of heat that had just flooded her body.

“Hey, buddy!  Leave her alone!” Daniel—poor, well-meaning Daniel—said, grabbing Oliver’s shoulder.

Oliver grabbed Daniel by the collar, lifting him with ease.  “She’s spoken for,” he growled lowly, tossing Daniel to the side.

“WOAH!” Felicity exclaimed, furious.  “What the hell d’you—AAH!” she shrieked when he bent down and threw her over his shoulder.  She kicked and beat on his back. 

“YOU NEANDERTHAL!” she screamed.  “Put me down this minute or I’ll call Detective Lance on your ass!  Don’t think I won’t.”

The people in the restaurant watched on in horror and amazement as he carried her out of the restaurant, only one of the waiters rushing to check on Daniel, who was fine but nursing a very bruised ego.

“Oliver Jonas Queen,” Felicity hissed outside the restaurant as he carried her in the direction of his bike.  “You put me down right now.  I swear I will never forgive you for this!  What in the hell are you thinking?” she demanded.

“You’re making it really difficult to carry you,” Oliver grunted, annoyed at the way she was struggling.  He sighed, setting her down.

“Oliver!” she huffed, attempting to straighten her dress.  “Explain yourself!”

“I don’t want you to go out with him.”

Felicity let out a single, barking laugh.  “Tough shit!  And what the heck made you think that little display was necessary?” she asked furiously, gesturing down the street in the direction of the restaurant they’d just left.  She blushed vividly, suddenly realizing that he had, in fact, _kissed_ her back there.  “What’s gotten into you?”

“You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”

Felicity’s mouth fell open.  She stared at him.  Then she frowned, waving her hand in front of his face.  “Oliver?  Are…are you okay?  You’re not acting right.”

Oliver’s brow creased, grabbing her hand to stop it, annoyed.  He smiled then, an idea obviously occurring to him.  So he acted on it immediately and without thought.  He used it to tug her to him, bringing their lips together again.


	4. Sofa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: oliver and felicity comforting each other and sharing stuff they normally wouldn't like Oliver + island and Felicity + parents :)

“Oliver!  Oliver, wake up!  Please wake up!”  Felicity bit her lip, watching as Oliver thrashed around on her couch, calling out, practically screaming in his sleep.  She tried again to edge closer, trying to get near enough to wake him, but she was scared that he might hurt her.  “Oliver, please!” she begged, finally managing to grasp his wrist.

In a movement so fast she hardly had time to process it, Oliver had switched the grip on her wrist and dragged her down, back against him, his arm forming a tight grip on her throat, his eyes flying open, gasping for air.

“Oliver!” she croaked out.

Horrified, he immediately released her, scrambling back to the far corner of the sofa.  “Felicity!” he panted.  “I’m so sorry!  Did I—”

“No…no, I’m fine.  It’s okay, Oliver,” she said kindly, resisting the urge to rub her throat and reaching out for him instead, wiping the sweat from his brow.  “Oliver, are you okay?”

“I…yes, I’m fine,” he lied, his eyes unconvincing.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked quietly, her expression full of concern.

Oliver didn’t answer.  He did, but he also didn’t want to burden her with his history.

Understanding, Felicity hesitated only briefly before asking, “Would it help if I stayed?”

His eyes snapped to hers, surprised by her offer.  He nodded silently, and Felicity sat down beside him, licking her lips nervously.  “I love this sofa,” she said thoughtfully.  He looked at her, confused.  “It reminds me of the one in my mother’s house.  When I was a kid, before I realized how…what…before my mother became quite so… _her_ , we used to have movie nights.  We’d pick the worst-looking movie in the $5 bin and stay up eating junk food on the couch while we watched it.  It’s one of the only good memories I have of her,” she added, her voice tightening.

Unable to control himself, Oliver reached out and pulled her into him, letting her head come to rest on his chest.  He stroked her hair comfortingly and Felicity held her breath, her heart pounding in her chest.  It was far and away the most intimate thing she had ever known Oliver to do.  By a seriously wide gap.  Moments passed, and she finally sank into him, comfortable in his arms, and he leaned back, situating them on the couch.

“I…” he started quietly, struggling, “I was dreaming about…about the night Shado died.”

Felicity didn’t dare to move.  He’d only mentioned Shado one other time, and she still regretted that in her frustration, she had cut him off.  He opened up so rarely.  “What happened?” she whispered, nearly inaudible.

Oliver thought he felt tears threatening, burning in the corners of his eyes as his chest constricted.  “She…was shot.  A man was pointing a gun between her and Sarah…” he sucked in a shaky breath and Felicity suddenly realized there were already tears in her eyes.  “…and he made me choose who to save.”  He swallowed painfully, a tear rolling down his cheek.  “He pointed the gun at Sarah, and all I remember thinking was that I’d already been responsible for her death once.  I couldn’t let her die again.  And I—I threw myself in front of her.  So he…he….” he couldn’t get the words out, sucking in a dry sob.

Felicity looked up at him, heart aching.  She would never get over the amount of tragedy he had endured, the horrors that life had put him through.  “Oliver,” she murmured gently, “it wasn’t your fault.”

Oliver couldn’t help it, he didn’t believe her, but hearing her say the words meant so much to him regardless.  His body started shaking with repressed sobs as the images from his nightmare flashed through his mind and he shut his eyes, unable to bear it.

Felicity lifted a hand to gently touch his face, stroking her thumb comfortingly over his cheek.  “Hey,” she whispered, “it’s okay.  It’s okay.”  She wished she knew what else to say, but what did one say to a story like that?  Instinctually, she leaned up and pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw, his stubble brushing coarsely against her soft lips.  In response, Oliver tightened his arms around her, squeezing her closer to him.  His Felicity, his wonderful girl.  _I will never let that happen to you, Felicity.  I will never let anyone hurt you._ It was a nightly mantra since the first day she had signed on with them.  He would protect her with his dying breath if necessary


	5. Lance Knows—Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: I'd love to see something like this: Oliver has to contact Lance, obviously as the Arrow, but he forgets to turn the voice modulator on because he's distracted by Felicity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely one of my personal favorites so far.

This was going to have to stop, Oliver realized.  It was absolutely impossible to concentrate.  He rubbed his jaw, where Roy had just successfully landed his fist for the first time ever.

“Dude,” Roy muttered.  “You are really off your game today.”

Oliver snapped his eyes off of Felicity to shoot Roy a glare.  Oblivious, Felicity was down on her hands and knees in the corner, messing with cables, trying to do something to the computers that Oliver didn’t understand.  All he knew was that her cute little butt was sticking in the air, and Oliver thought he was going to pass out every time he looked in her direction.

To make matters worse, she had her headphones in, and was silently dancing and lip-syncing to her music as she worked.  And damn him if it wasn’t completely distracting.

His mind snapped out of it briefly as he saw the cell phone on her desk go off, the screen lighting up with Detective Lance’s name.

Grimly, he walked over to the phone and lifted it to answer it, but got slightly derailed when Felicity switched positions, the hem of her skirt rising dangerously high and exposing the lace trim of her thigh-highs.  Maybe her skirts really _were_ too short….

 _“Hey!  Hey!  Are you there?  Hello?”_ Lance’s voice was asking from the other end.  _“Listen this is urgent, so—”_

“Sorry, Detective Lance.  What do you need?”

There was a long, loaded silence on the other end, and Oliver frowned, his attention back on the phone call, briefly wondering if something had happened to the man.  Was Lance in some kind of danger?

 _“OLIVER QUEEN?”_ Lance roared on the other end, followed by a long string of expletives.  _“Damn it!  Damn it!  I knew it!”_

“Fuck!” Oliver slipped, realizing with horror that he had been so busy watching Felicity, he’d failed to turn on the modulator.  Everyone’s eyes snapped to him as he promptly hung up and flung the phone away from him as though it had burned him.  He looked up, seeing them staring at him in confusion.  “Um…so…Detective Lance knows.”


	6. Tug Your Ear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: I... I...

It was, Oliver noted with satisfaction, possibly the only time he’d ever seen Felicity stunned into complete silence.

“Felicity?” he prompted.

She jumped.

“Felicity?  Any kind of reaction at all would be great.”

“I…I…”

He smirked.  “How about: thumbs up or thumbs down?  That’s easy enough.  Or you could maybe tug on your ear or something if you want me to do it again.”  He pressed his lips together, trying very hard not to laugh at her surprised expression.

Slowly and shakily, Felicity lifted her hand but then very firmly tugged on her ear.

Grinning, Oliver leaned in and kissed her for the second time ever.


	7. Undercover—Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Oliver and Felicity have to share a bed for a mission ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…this might have gotten slightly out of hand. I had one entirely different idea for it before the idea of why they were undercover occurred to me. And…things happened….
> 
> MINOR ADULT CONTENT WARNING, PEEPS.

Oliver’s eyes drifted slowly open, sunlight streaming into the room.  There was one good thing about this mission, and one thing only:  going undercover with Felicity.  He’d protested the idea at first, not want to put Felicity in harm’s way.  But after Digg had pointed out that the only other option was for him and Roy to go (“And no one is going to buy the story that Roy and I are newlyweds, Oliver.”), Oliver had given in.

If Oliver had known how much fun he was going to have pretending to be Felicity’s husband, he would have suggested the idea a lot sooner.  Besides, it was a nice treat for her, getting to be spoiled at the all-inclusive resort while they tried to figure out and shut down whoever in the hotel was pedaling this new drug that allegedly caused its users to lose their self-control.

They’d arrived yesterday evening and the fun had begun.  Oliver had quickly realized that he really didn’t give Felicity’s acting abilities enough credit.  She had played the part of the smitten young bride to a T, hanging off of his arm as they accepted welcome drinks at the front desk, batting her eyelashes sweetly at him, giggling at just about everything, and letting flirtatious innuendos slip left and right.  He quirked an eyebrow.  Come to think of it, he wasn’t positive if that last part was acting with her or not.

But the best part yet had been an older couple, celebrating their 60th anniversary, congratulating him and Felicity, the old man telling Oliver, “Well, son, go on!  Giver her a kiss!”  So, he’d simply turned to Felicity and dropped his mouth to hers, to which she had responded with a girlish squeal.

Okay, admittedly, he felt a tiny bit guilty taking advantage of this situation.  But…she tasted really good.  And he’d always wanted to kiss her.  The next thing he knew, he was looking for any excuse to have his hands and lips on her while they explored the hotel restaurant and the pool at night.  (“Because,” Oliver argued, “anyone pushing that drug isn’t going to be parading around in broad daylight when the families are out.”)

As if it couldn’t get any better, Felicity had point-blank refused to let Oliver sleep on the floor.  (“Really, I’d like to see myself, Oliver.  Jeez you’re such a martyr.”)  So he’d agreed, on the grounds that they share it.  It was a king-sized bed after all.  There was plenty of room for both of them.  
That said, Felicity hadn’t exactly stayed on her side.  She was currently twined around him quite happily, her leg wrapped around his thigh, her body flush against his chest, and her head resting pleasantly on his shoulder.  Happily, and having enjoyed the best night’s sleep he’d had in _years_ , Oliver started playing with her hair, which looked so soft and silky that it just wanted to be touched.  And he wanted to touch it.

Felicity moaned, shifting against, her body sliding along his languidly, and Oliver groaned a little.  He was getting hard having her pressed against him like that, in nothing but her little tank top and fleece shorts.  He slid his hand down her back, coming to rest at the very base of her spine, and she moaned, arching into him a little more.

“Oliver,” she sighed, finally awake.  “I realized something last night.  But I was tired.  So I wanted to sleep some more.”

“Hmm.”  His hand drifted lower, squeezing her ass tightly.  She let out a pleasurable gasp.

“It’s about…about…wait a minute…” she paused, noticing a spot at the base of his neck that really just needed to be kissed.  So she did, sucking on it gently before soothing it with her tongue.  “What was I saying?” she asked, pulling back.

Frowning when she stopped, Oliver rolled her onto her back so he could start working his own path down the lovely column of her throat, working his way toward the soft swell of her breast.

“Mm…Oliver… _Oliver_ , it was important.”

Oliver felt that it was important that he remove this shirt she was wearing, but heard her make a frustrated noise.  “Something about…realizing something last night,” he said, pushing the strap of her tank top down and revealing the soft pink bud of her breast.  He  brushed his nose and then his lips against it before letting his tongue dart out to taste it.

 _“Oliver!”_ she said suddenly, pulling him up toward her.  “I figured out where people are getting the drug,” she said with wide eyes, holding his face in her hands so she could focus.  Oliver pouted.  He’d been enjoying himself.  “It’s the hotel…they’re putting it in the welcome drinks so guests will spend more money here.”

Oliver didn’t understand what she was getting at.  All he understood was that now their lips were very close together and he wanted to see if hers tasted as good as they had the day before.  She moaned when he dipped down and kissed her firmly, nibbling on her lower lip before dipping his tongue in her mouth.  She kissed him back for a moment while he thought vaguely about what she’d been saying.  Welcome drinks…the hotel drugging them.

Oh.

… _oh_.

They’d had the welcome drinks.  They’d been drugged.  They’d have to do something about that.  Phone Diggle.

Later.

Later worked just as well as right now, Oliver decided, sliding a hand along Felicity’s thigh.  Maybe even better.


	8. Immediately and Without Thought—Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: YOU HAVE TO CONTINUE THAT WILLPOWER DRUG PROMPT that was perfection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol well okay then…

Felicity was mad.  Fuming.  But could she help it if Oliver was a damn good kisser?  Forgetting herself for a brief moment, she melted into his kiss, enjoying the way his strong arms slipped around her to pull her closer and his tongue gently delved into her mouth.

But only for a brief moment.  In another moment, she remembered herself, remembered that she was furious, that Oliver had just crashed her date, and that there was something clearly wrong with him.  She pushed him back.

“Oliver,” she gasped out, trying to catch her breath as her brain struggled to keep up.  “What on earth is going on with you?  Are you on something?” she wanted to know.  She reached for her purse but realize a second later that she’d dropped her phone on the floor of the restaurant.  She rolled her eyes.  Then she gave Oliver a wary look.  He was watching her intensely.  He was definitely not right in the head at the moment, but he also didn’t seem to be harboring any hostility toward her.  _Just the opposite, actually,_ she thought ruefully.  She was probably safe to stay with him for now.

“Why don’t you want me to kiss you?” Oliver asked finally, ignoring her question.

Her mouth fell open.  “I…what?”

“I think about kissing you all the time.  And a lot of the time you look like you’re thinking about kissing me.  I just want to—”

“WOAH, BUDDY!” Felicity placed a hand on his chest, successfully halting another movement toward her.  She frowned at him.  It was so bizarre.  She’d say he was acting child-like, but it was more than that.  It was like he was working on pure impulse.  She glanced at his mouth, licking her own lips as she thought about how good that kiss had been.  Had he meant it when he said he thought about kissing her all the time?  Or was he really delusional right now?

“You’re doing it now.”

“Doing what?” she asked distractedly, still debating how to handle this.

“Looking at me like you want to kiss me.”

Her eyes snapped away from his lips and she turned beet red.  “Oliver, where are Digg and Roy?” she asked rather than answering him.

He shrugged.  “The Foundry maybe?  Did you know when you’re worried you get this cute little crease between your eyebrows?” he said, smirking and reaching up to smooth the crease with his thumb.  
Felicity swallowed nervously.  “Right…and…what are you doing here, exactly?”

Oliver seemed confused by the question.  “I…”

She gave him an encouraging look.

“You’re here.”

“And you wanted to come see me?” she smiled.  It was cute, really.

“I wanted to come _get_ you,” he corrected.  “I don’t want you to date that guy.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Right.  Not that it’s any of your business, Oliver, but okay.  You wanted to come get me away from my date.  And apparently you think it’s okay to kiss me any time the notion strikes you…do you have your phone?” she thought suddenly.

He shook his head.  “Nope.”  He started to lean in to kiss her again, because apparently the mention of the word had given him the impulse to do it again.

Trying to be strong, Felicity ducked out of the way.  “Okay, well, can you take me to see them?” she asked instead.

Looking a little put out, Oliver seemed inclined to say no, so Felicity gave him her best damsel-in-distress smile, hoping to play to his heroic inclinations.  “ _Please_ , Oliver?  I really need to go see them.  It would mean so much to me.”

He smiled, and Felicity was so caught off guard it nearly knocked her over.  “Okay.”  Since when did Oliver Queen smile like that?  But she wasn’t going to argue that particular point.  She’d obviously just gotten her way.

He led her to his bike and gave her the helmet, until she reminded him he had to wear it so that no one would see his face.

It was as she climbed onto the back that she realized why Oliver didn’t have to much of a problem with this.  He’d offered her a ride home from work dozens of times before and she always declined, terrified of the bike and not interested in putting herself in such an intimate position with him.  And now here she was, skirt hiked up, legs exposed, and arms wrapped around him for dear life at he took off at an entirely unnecessary pleased, obviously taking enjoyment in her scream of terror.

When they arrived at the Foundry, whatever was going on with him seemed to be getting worse.  She could hardly keep him at bay.

“Digg!” she called out, attempting to pry herself away from his wandering hands.  “Roy?”

“Oh thank God,” Diggle’s voice came from down the stairs, and she heard Roy come bounding toward them.

“Blondie!  We were worried!  What ha—” he cut off, seeing the situation Felicity was in with Oliver and immediately bursting into laughter.  “Oh, Digg, you’re not gonna believe this.”

“Is he trying to kiss her?  I knew it!  You owe me ten bucks!”

“While I’m delighted that you two are so aMUSED OLIVER FOR GOD’S SAKE!” Felicity slapped his hand away.  “I’m thrilled you’re enjoying this now will you please explain what’s going on here?”

“Oliver’s been drugged,” Roy explained, finally sobering up just enough to come to her aid.

“Yes, I gathered as much.  With what? …here, let me.”  Oliver was not taking kindly to Roy’s attempt to separate him from Felicity.  Sensing danger, Felicity started luring Oliver down the stairs.

“A…uh…are you sure you want to know?”

“Well I’m sure it’s got something to do with pheromones or something,” she rolled her eyes.  “Or he wouldn’t be acting all love struck,” she theorized, leading Oliver toward the medical table.

Diggle was smirking.  “Are you sure you wanna know?  We’ve been on the line with Barry for the last hour and he’s running over an antidote any minute.”

“I don’t want anything from Barry,” Oliver groused, looking murderous.  
Felicity heaved a sigh, ignoring him.  “Yes, I want to know.  What happened?”

“It’s a toxin that essentially lowers inhibitions.  As in, he has little to no willpower right now.”

“So he _is_ running on impulse,” Felicity said triumphantly, pleased she’d been right earlier.

Diggle and Roy watched her warily, waiting for the pin to drop.

It did.  Felicity’s eyes went round.  “Oh…OH!”  She buried her face in her hands and groaned.  _“Oh.”_


	9. Lance Knows—Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Are you feeling a follow up to "Lance Knows?" The guys know why Oliver forgot the modulator, but Felicity is so confused about what could have been so distracting. :)

“Um…so…Detective Lance knows.”

Diggle accidentally dropped the water bottle he was holding, Roy’s mouth fell open, and Felicity’s eyes grew round as she slipped her earbud out to make sure she’d heard that correctly.

Silence.

Then…

“What?” Diggle deadpanned.

“What?” Roy echoed.

“WHAT?” Felicity yelled.

Oliver was still staring at the phone on the floor like he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

“I’m sorry,” Diggle said.  “Back up.  What exactly just happened?”

“I…I…forgot…the voice distorter.”

“WHAT?!” all three voices repeated simultaneously.

“Oliver, what in the heck were you doing?” Felicity asked incredulously.  In the background, Roy nudged Diggle and whispered something to him, subtly pointing at the corner where Felicity had been working.

Digg’s eyebrow went up and an amused smirk formed on his mouth.  “Yeah, Oliver,” he asked calmly, “tell us.  What were you thinking about so deeply that you would forget something like that?”  Roy folded his arms, nodding his head expectantly in agreement.

Oliver could feel his face starting to burn as he tried to come up with an explanation, but Felicity was bearing down on him, and making it difficult to think of something on the spot.

“Oliver!” she was saying.  “We _just_ spoke with Sarah about this.  We all agreed that her dad couldn’t know.  For his own best interest!”

“I—you—” he sputtered.

“What were you doing, Oliver?” she insisted.  “Seriously!”

“Yeah, Oliver,” Roy echoed from behind, clearly enjoying this.  _“Seriously.”_

“It was…I mean…”

“Spit it out, Oliver!” Felicity exclaimed.

“I—You—It—”

“I, you, it _what_ , Oliver?”

'“YOUR SKIRTS ARE TOO SHORT, DAMN IT!”


	10. Daddy Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: The pictures of Emily and Colton Haynes have me thinking: What if Roy and Felicity had the same father?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was assuming this was a prompt, but either way it became one. Interesting concept. I’m not sure I’d buy into it on the show, but I guess that’s what fic is for, isn’t it? :)

Oliver frowned, watching the pair of them across the room.  Heads bent together, low whispers, familiar touches…it had been going on for a little over a week now, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Felicity and Roy had always gotten along well.  Roy was just so comfortable around her in a way Oliver never let himself be.  He felt a pang of jealousy as he watched Roy reach out and tug on her ponytail, muttering something before getting up and heading back to the training mat, where he began working on Tai Chi…something Felicity had recently suggested for him.

He understood what Roy would see in Felicity, of course, but he’d never really pegged Roy as being Felicity’s type.  He’d always pictured her with someone a little more…put together.  Someone who knew where his life was going.  Heck, even Barry Allen had a steady job, even if Oliver thought Barry was a little too young and immature for her.

So it was a surprise to see the sudden change in their relationship, to wonder why they were keeping it such a secret.  Were they dating?  Or was it just casual… _What if they’re sleeping together?_ he thought suddenly with a pang.  He glanced at Felicity, who was shooting a look at Roy over her shoulder thoughtfully, distracted from her computers.

He tried to tell himself he wasn’t envious, that it didn’t bother him that she used to watch _him_ work out.  This was, after all, better for her.  Maybe Roy could actually give her what she needed.  Oliver had too much emotional baggage for someone like Felicity.  Roy had a past, but it didn’t stop him from getting close to people.  And Oliver's sister had been missing for the better part of a year.  How could he expect Roy to pine after Thea forever?  It wouldn’t be fair.

Still, he didn’t like the idea of Roy having some sort of friends-with-benefits fling with Felicity.  She was too good for that, and Roy shouldn’t take advantage of her like that.  He should know better.  So really, Oliver felt he was _obligated_ to step in and say something.    Just to be sure.

“So what’s going on between you and Felicity?” Oliver asked later that night as he and Roy left the building.

Roy looked taken aback.  “What?” he asked nervously, confirming Oliver’s worst suspicions.  “What do you mean?”

Oliver shrugged, trying to sound casual.  “Well…there’s obviously something happening between you two, and I just…” he paused, choosing his words carefully.  “I just want to make sure you’re not doing anything stupid that might hurt you both later on.”  _And by ‘you both,’ I mostly mean ‘her,’_ he added mentally.  He gave Roy a serious look.

Roy was looking back at him with a thoughtful expression, as though he, too, were choosing his words carefully.  “Well,” he said at length, “you’re not wrong, dude.  There’s, uh, _something_ going on.  But…” he squinted at Oliver, trying to read the man’s mind.  “…I don’t think it’s the kind of something you’re thinking.  But, if it were, y’know…she’s a grown woman.  She can make her own choices.”

Oliver glared.  “That doesn’t mean you should take advantage of her.”

Roy rolled his eyes.  “Dude.  I appreciate your ultra-low opinion of me.  Really.  But like I said, it’s not what you’re thinking.  Clearly.”

“Well what is it then?” Oliver insisted.

Roy hesitated.  “I…I don’t think I should tell you.  She kind of wanted to keep it between us for right now.”

Oliver’s chest clenched.  That confirmed it.  They were obviously just fooling around and he didn’t know why that made him so angry but it did.

“Dude…seriously, chill out,” Roy said, watching the flicker of raw emotions pass through Oliver’s eyes.  He heaved a weary sigh, rubbing a hand over his face.  “All right fine, just because I don’t want your lovesick ass thinking this is something it’s not.  Felicity and I aren’t, like, seeing each other or something.  It’s just…we kind of found out something recently.  We, uh,” he looked up, swallowing hard, as though this were difficult for him, “Apparently we’re half-siblings.”

“What?” Oliver asked, floored.  Whatever he’d been expecting, that wasn’t it.

Roy nodded grimly.  “We have the same dad.  He skipped out on her when she was a kid, and shortly afterward had a fling with my mom, before skipping out on us, too.  But listen, don’t tell her I told you.  It’s kind of been rough on her—me, too, for that matter—and she’s not really been up to talking about it much.  But I guess, y'know, it’s hard not to bond with someone over that kind of thing.  We’ve been hanging out a lot more.  That’s all.”

Oliver nodded his understanding.  He could imagine how that knowledge would take its toll on Felicity.  And Roy, of course.

Roy studied Oliver for a minute.  “So…”

“What?”

“Do you wanna talk about how jealous you were when you thought I was sleeping with her, or…?”


	11. Not One Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Olicity humor where she asks him to hold her bag when on a mission. Maybe Diggle\Roy included too :)

Felicity swore under her breath.  “Here!” she said frustratedly, shoving her large pink leather purse into Oliver’s—or rather, the Arrow’s—hands to get it out of her way.  “Hold this,” she commanded

Beneath the hood and mask, Oliver’s gave her a wry look, but he mutely held the bag while she continued working with the wires.  He wasn’t about to give her grief when she was so intensely focused.  No need to incur her ‘Loud Voice’ as she called it.

It had been an impromptu mission, and he’d grabbed Felicity along the way while she was out shopping.  She hadn’t exactly been prepared to be out in the field, still dressed in her work clothes with her high heels and her tight skirt and with the large bag slung over her shoulder.

“There!” she said triumphantly as Roy came skidding around the corner to warn them it was time to go.  “Almost…got it!” she said happily.

“Let’s go, Barbie,” Roy came skidding onto the scene, grabbing her and dragging her toward the exit, assuming, naturally that Oliver would follow after him.

Minutes later they were swinging down to the street below.  Roy set the frazzled Felicity on her feet and turned in time to see Oliver deftly landing behind them.  He paused, and a grin formed on his face.

Oliver glared beneath the hood.  “Not.  One.  Word,” he warned.

“Dude,” Roy sniggered.  “Cute purse.”

“Shut up, Roy.”

“Pink is really your color,” Roy said before finally bursting into laughter.

“Oh, wait until Diggle hears about this one,” he said gleefully as Oliver irritably returned Felicity’s purse to her.

“Can it, kid,” Oliver grumbled.


	12. Undercover—Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: multiple requests for a second part to Undercover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here’s your smut, you dirty birds. ;) I made it pretty long so that I could do it justice and also tie up the loose ends.
> 
> Also, SMUT WARNING AHEAD SERIOUSLY SMUTTY FIC IS SMUTTY

It was the most freeing experience, Oliver realized, being on this drug.  He didn’t have to hold back, didn’t have to rethink his every move.  He just… _wanted_ , so he did.  He’d never felt so completely at peace.

Was he vaguely aware that he wouldn’t normally be doing this?  Yes.  Could he muster up the will to care?  Not even a little.

Felicity’s brain was, unsurprisingly, still working, though.  “I…we’ll…ohhh,” she sighed as Oliver switched breasts, laving her other nipple with his tongue as well.  “We’ll just have to…have to make sure…” she sighed, “not to accept anymore food or drink.”

Oliver made a grunting noise of agreement.  Not a big deal, he could think of other things to do.  He pulled her shirt up over her head to get it out of the way.

“How long do we think it lasts?” Felicity murmured.

“We hadn’t figured it out yet,” Oliver sighed in response, trailing his lips down her stomach and smirking when she squirmed.  He’d always wondered what this would be like.  He was utterly unsurprised that she appeared determined to talk through it. He chuckled as he reached her navel.

“Are you—are you _laughing_ at me?” she gasped.

His head lifted and he gave her an innocent look.  “No.”

“You are!” she accused, but found herself unable to muster any proper anger.  She dropped her head back again.  “Ugh!” she grunted.  
Sighing, Oliver pushed himself back up her body and started kissing her lips.  She was really quite adorable all disgruntled, but on the other hand, her lips were making this very cute little pouting shape that made him want to kiss them again.  His tongue dipped into her mouth to stroke hers and she sighed.  He wanted to hear her moan again.  It was such a good sound.  He slid his hand between her thighs and lightly ghosted over her panties, which already felt damp.  He smiled when she whimpered.  _Almost_.  So he dragged her panties off, tossing them aside, and dipped a finger lightly inside her, pleased to find she was soaking wet.  He paused from kissing her when he heard her moan loudly, wanting her lips free to give the sound full voice.

“You’re so wet,” he mumbled.  He noticed her neck looked very exposed at the moment, so he nuzzled it gently, continuing to lightly stroke her and listen to her very vocal response.

“That’s because I had a sex dream about you last night,” she confessed breathlessly.  “And then you did that thing with your tongue on my breast, which felt _really_ good.”

Oliver felt blood rushing to his cock.  “You had a sex dream about me?”

“Uh huh,” she whined out, her hips rocking against his hand, trying to induce him to do more than just lightly run his fingers back and forth over her slit.

“What happened?”

“You were eating me out.  Which was really, really nice, by the way.  I…god, please stop teasing,” she whined.  So Oliver slipped a finger all the way inside her and she let her eyes fall closed as she groaned.  “Yes!” she exclaimed when he added a second finger and started pumping them in and out of her.  “Oh _damn_ it,” she cursed.

Oliver gave her an amused look, flicking his thumb over her clit.  It was incredibly satisfying to finally know for sure how vocal she was in bed.

Felicity slipped a hand into his boxers and wrapped her hand around his erection, determined to wipe the decidedly smug expression clean off of his face, and was rewarded when she was met with a feral growl.  But to her disappointment, Oliver stopped fingering her in order to grab her wrist and pull it away.  She looked confused as he leaned down to bite her lip admonishingly, then moved over to nibble on her ear—it was one of his many favorite features on her.  “When I cum,” he informed her, his hot breath against her ear making her shudder, “it is _not_ going to be in your hand.”

He placed a sucking kiss below her ear while his hands roughly parted her thighs so he could lie between them, boxers yanked off and teasing her pussy with the tip of his cock.

She moaned in frustration, bucking her hips to try to encourage him to sink into her.  Her fingers dug into his shoulders but he refused to budge, focusing only on the soft bit of skin beneath her ear, which he was sucking at and biting, determined to leave a mark.  “You’re such a control freak,” she groused.  “Not that that’s a surprise, really—that you’d be all controlling in bed and everything.  Because you’re controlling everywhere else.”  He moved his lips over to her mouth in an attempt to silence her, but she just kept talking against his mouth, making it exceptionally difficult to kiss her.  “Really, I actually think you have some sort of Alpha-male issues because—OH GODDAMMIT OLIVER!!!” she screamed as he finally sunk into her and he groaned in satisfaction, nipping at her bottom lip.

Felicity gasped for breath, struggling to adjust to the size of him deep inside of her, her legs wrapping around his waist tightly.  “You,” Oliver grunted, “were saying?”  He pulled slowly out of her before plunging into her again.  All she could do was cry out in pleasure.  He did it again to the same effect.  Just when he thought he might actually have fucked her speechless, she continued.

“I just think that you could stand to—unh—be a little more—” she gasped “—easy going.  You don’t have t—oh!—to be so dominating all the time.”

Oliver smirked, tightening his grip on her wrists and sinking into her hard, grinding against her clit.  “Are you saying you don’t like it?  Because right now I’m thinking it just turns you on.”

She cried out before she could respond.  “Just because it makes me wet doesn’t mean it doesn’t annoy the hell out of—FUCK, OLIVER!” her head pressed back into the pillow as her breasts pushed against his chest, her taut nipples sending pleasurable warmth through her body as they brushed against him.  Oliver had picked up the speed quite suddenly, thrusting into her hard and fast, listening with gratification as he cries crescendoed until finally she screamed his name, orgasm tearing its way through her body.  Releasing her wrists at last, he gripped her hips instead, angling her up off of the bed as he continued to fuck her.

“Felicity,” he gasped out, and she whimpered in response, actual putty in his hands.  Finally he let himself go, spilling inside of her as he cried out.  Slowly, his body melted into hers, and he collapsed on top of her, face buried in the pillow and her neck as he tried to catch his breath.

“Oliver, you’re crushing me.”

Chuckling, he rolled them over, careful not to pull out of her, so that she was lying on his chest.  “That was even better than I imagined.”

She sat up to better give him a mocking shocked expression.  “Oliver Queen!” she chastised.  “Do you mean to say you’ve been imagining me in less-than-platonic circumstances?”

He glared at her.  “It’s not my fault.  I have to watch you waltz around the office in those damn skirts of yours.  I’m only human.”

She gave him a wry look.  “You’re pitiful.”

His hand slipped around her neck and yanked her down to him so he could kiss her.  “I,” he growled, “am nothing of the kind.  As I believe I just proved.”

Felicity heaved a sigh, but allowed him to ravage her mouth again.

“Shouldn’t we call the boys?” she murmured into his lips after a while.

He pulled her back a few inches to quirk an eyebrow at her.

She shrugged.  “We have to tell them about the drug sometime.”

“Oh.  Right.”  They stared at each other.

“Later,” they agreed.  Later would be good.

* * *

The next day, Felicity sat on the cold metal bench in the lair, a small bandage on her arm where Digg had injected an antidote, feeling mortified.  As the others left, she noticed Oliver lingering out of the corner of her eye.  Oh, go away, she mentally pleaded.  _Please, please, please let’s pretend it never happened._

“I really think we should talk about it, though,” Oliver commented and she noticed vaguely that she must have vocalized that last thought.  Surprise.

“Oliver, I swear to God, please spare me the ‘We’re just friends and it’s really best we stay that way and obviously we weren’t thinking straight so we should put this behind us,’ speech.  I’m good.  Promise.  Totally agree.”

“Actually,” Oliver said, leaning in to speak into her ear.  “I was going to say we should talk about the fact that it makes you wet when I’m controlling.”

Her face snapped up to meet his eyes, which were twinkling with smugness.  She grinned deviously.  “Only if you want to talk about the fact that my short skirts inspire your sex fantasies,” she challenged.


	13. Immediately and Without Thought—Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: You're killing me! I need a third part to the willpower drug prompt. lol. I will love you forever!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apparently your wish is my command; and it looks like there might be a 4th part coming in the near future.

“Thanks, Barry,” Diggle said, accepting the case of antidote from Barry.  “We owe you one.”

“Hey, not a problem.  We had an issue with the same drug breaking out in Coast City.  So we stocked up on plenty of this stuff.  I just hope you guys have better luck than I did in getting to the source of the problem.”  He shook his head.  “Well!” he said more cheerfully.  “Gotta run!  See ya, gorgeous!” he added to Felicity, waving one second, gone the next.

Oliver rolled his eyes.  “Show off,” he grumbled.

“Now, now, Oliver,” Roy teased.  “He stayed on the other side of the room from her, just like we promised.”

Felicity crossed her arms and heaved an irritated sigh.  “This is ridiculous.”  She was sitting next to Oliver, who had been acting extremely possessive ever since Barry’s name was first mentioned.

He started to tense when Diggle came near him with the syringe, still refusing to believe any of them when they said he’d been drugged.  But as Diggle had pointed out, the antidote wouldn’t hurt him if there were nothing wrong with him, so Felicity persuaded him to take it anyway.

 _“Oliver,”_ she warned, reminding him that he had promised.  Glaring, he took the syringe and stabbed himself.

“How long did Barry say it takes to go into effect?” Felicity asked.

“Couple of hours,” Roy said, still keeping his distance from Oliver, who had tried to take a swing at him earlier for asking how Felicity’s date had been going.

“Right.  Well, Oliver,” Felicity said, rising.  “Thank you for completely ruining my evening.  And for being an emotionally stunted idiot.  And…just…” she finished in a frustrated growl.  “Whatever.  Good night everyone.”

Roy and Digg kept Oliver, who was starting to get drowsy from the injection, from chasing after her.

As she left the room, shaking her head, they heard her mutter, “ _What_ am I going to tell Daniel?”

Roy looked at Digg over Oliver’s swooning head.  “Dude’s gonna have some serious damage control to do when he wakes up."

—————

“No, Daniel, you don’t need to come over,” Felicity repeated for the third time.  “I’m fine.”  A lie.  She was currently knee-deep in a pint of ice cream, angrily eating her feelings and cursing Oliver Queen’s name.  “It was just a stupid practical joke from an old MIT friend, I promise.  I’m really glad he didn’t hurt you by accident.”  She paused, listening.  “No really,” she replied.  “I would have called _much_ sooner if I hadn’t left my phone at the restaurant.  I just don’t have your number memorized, like I said.”  She bit back a sigh.  _Will you please just let me hang up already?  I need to take a bubble bath and pretend my life isn’t ridiculous._   “I promise I’ll make it up to you, Dan. I—”  A knock sounded at her door and she rolled her eyes, heading for the door, wondering who would be bothering her at this hour.  “Really, we’ll do it again next Friday,” she continued, hopping down from her kitchen counter and carrying herself to the front door.  She had slipped out of her dress and heels from the evening and taken out her contacts, instead donning her glasses and plaid flannel jammies.  “You know, there’s this new wine bar that opened not far from where I work; I’ve been dying to go.  Hold on there’s someone at the door,” she reached the door and opened it to find a sheepish Oliver standing on her doorstep.  She promptly shut the door in his face.  “Never mind.  Wrong house,” she added loudly, to be sure she could be heard through the door as she walked away.  “Yes, _goodbye_ , Daniel.  Goodnight.”  _Finally,_ she thought with a huff as she hung up.

There was another knock at the door and she spun on her heel, glaring at the door dangerously.  “Go home, Oliver!” she called through the door.

“Felicity!” he called back.  “I’ve come to apologize.”

“I don’t want to hear it!” she said.

“What?  I can’t hear you?”

“I said I don’t care!” she yelled more loudly.

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand you; you’re going to have to open the door!”

“For pity’s sake,” she huffed, marching toward the door and flinging it open.  “I said to go home, Oliver,” she bit out.

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Oliver strode past her and into her home.  “I know,” he said.  “I just wanted you to open the door.”  He turned to face her, looking properly ashamed.  “I’m sorry, Felicity.”

“Oh, for which part, Oliver?” she said in a high pitched tone, closing the door behind her.  “For ruining my date?  For making a public scene?  Throwing me over your shoulder and carrying me off into the night like some sort of caveman?” she accused, nearly mentioning that he’d kissed her twice but not quite having the stomach.  “For acting like you own me and refusing to let any other men anywhere near me, whether it was Daniel or Barry or Roy or—”

“Yes,” he said simply.

She raised her eyebrows.

“Yes,” he elaborated.  “I’m sorry for all of it.”

She stared at him for a moment before throwing her hands up in the air and storming past him back to her kitchen.

He followed after her.  “Felicity, you’ve got to understand…I had no sense of what I was doing!  It was like I was incapable of making any kind of judgment or decision.”  He watched her snatch up a half-eaten pint of ice cream and shove a spoonful into her mouth.  “I just… _did_ whatever came to mind.”  She let out an indignant sound that resembled a laugh.  “It was impossible to think before acting.”

Felicity licked the spoon clean and leveled him with a stern and quelling look.  “Oliver, let me make something very clear: It wasn’t that you did those things.  It’s that any of them occurred to you at all.  Do you think you own me?” she demanded.  “I mean, Oliver, I’ve always known you were protective…to a fault, even, but this!”  She shook her head and reached for the ice cream again.

“I don’t think I own you,” Oliver said humbly.

“Oh clearly you do,” she argued through a mouthful of ice cream.  “ _Clearly_ , you do.”

He shook his head.  “I don’t.  I just…how do I… I mean, Felicity, didn’t you see it?”

She just looked at him, taking another defiant bite of ice cream.

“Felicity, it wasn’t about thinking I own you, I just…couldn’t stand the thought of you with someone else.  I _can’t_ stand it,” he corrected himself, eyes boring into hers earnestly.

She swallowed, staring at him with her mouth open slightly, empty spoon still raised in her hand.

“And I know I don’t have any right to say who you can and can’t see but that won’t ever stop me from being upset about it.”

She gave him a horrified look before taking another bite of ice cream, picking up the carton to carry with her as she turned her back on him once again rounding the corner of the small kitchen island to put some space between them.  “Please go home, Oliver.”

“Felicity, stop,” he chased after her, but she dashed quickly out of reach.

“No!” she said, shaking her head.  “No, no, no, no, no…after everything?  After _everything!_   After Isabel in Russia and jealous arguments and Sarah and fake I-love-yous and treating Daniel like dirt and always making me feel like this was one-sided…no!  I want you to leave, Oliver.”

He finally caught hold of her arm and stopped her round about circling of the island.  He pulled her around to face him, hands on both her arms so she had no choice but to look at him and think about how very close they were, but with a grip gently enough that she could break free if she chose to.  “Felicity, I’ve already told you I’m sorry.  And I am.  There’s no excuse for my and actions and I apologize.  And I’m going to leave now, but I have to tell you two more things before I go.”

“What?” she pleaded, exasperated.

“First, that I’m in love with you.”

She froze, barely comprehending him.

“And second, that I’m thinking about kissing you right now—” her lips parted in surprise, gaze flickering to his mouth and back to his eyes.  “—but I’m not going to because I know I don’t have a right to.  So I’m going to wait.”  He waited to see whether she would ask what for, but she was still too startled.  “I’m going to wait until you ask me to,” he informed her.  He held her there for a moment longer before finally releasing her.  “Goodnight, Felicity.  I hope the ice cream helps.”

She looked down and realized she still had a spoon in one hand and the ice cream carton in the other.  She heard her door shut and the lock click.

“Shit,” she said, taking a bite of ice cream.  “That was a damn good apology.”


	14. Ten Times the Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: How about, Felicity, confessing more about her family & her mother after the case that they are working on starting to bring some of her bad memories of her childhood back. :)

“Felicity, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Oliver crossed his arms and looked at her determinedly.

“It’s nothing, it’s just, I hate this place.”

He frowned.  “Casinos…I mean, you’re kind of in your element here, aren’t you?” he asked hesitantly, hoping it wasn’t the wrong thing to say.  “Not to…I just mean that the last time we crashed that underground casino, you were really on the ball,” he said encouragingly.  She had been, after all.  He still wondered where exactly Felicity had learned how to count cards.

“No, I know, this is just…more than I expected, I’m sorry,” she said, obviously distraught but trying very hard to pretend she was fine.  She shook her head.  “I’m sorry.  I’ll get it together.”

She started to move past him to head back into the casino, but Oliver’s hand shot out automatically to stop her.  Dragging her back he pulled her around to face him.  “Felicity.  You have nothing to be sorry for.  You’re doing fine.  I just want to make sure this isn’t too stressful for you.  We can call it in, come back another day with a new plan.”

She chuckled, though the laugh didn’t quite meet her eyes.  “Right,” she said.  “We’ve been trying to peg down this guy for months and this is the first time we’ve known for sure he was going to hit a place.  We’re not going home.  Not for me,” she said firmly, and he recognized the resolve in her eyes.

“Okay,” he said.  “But…are you sure you don’t want to tell me what’s going on?”

She licked her lips, not quite meeting his eyes.  “There’s a woman out there, a waitress…she reminds me of someone.”

Oliver searched her face and understanding donned on him.  “Your mother.”

She nodded, eyes shining tellingly.  “I hate my mother,” she said tightly.

“You mentioned that she was a waitress?  In Vegas?” Oliver asked, as if he didn’t remember exactly what Felicity had told him about her past.  Out of respect for her, he had never researched her family, beyond what he’d looked into when he first considered letting her join the team.  Even then, he’d only looked at recent years.  So when Felicity chose to reveal those small tidbits about her family, Oliver sat up and took notes.

She nodded.  “Yeah.  She was a real piece of work.  She’d slip stuff into guys drinks so she could rob them later.  That kind of thing.  Not really interested in hard work, my mother.”

“Ah.”

“Anyway, that woman out there…it’s not her, but she looks so much like her…for a second…I thought…I don’t know, it was stupid, but it got inside my head, and I’m sorry.  I just try really hard not to think about her.  Ever.”  She looked up at him, and his heart went out to her.  There were many sins and many crimes committed in this world, but surely the gravest were the ones that hurt innocent people like Felicity Smoak.

Oliver cupped her cheek and she leaned into his hand closing her eyes.  “Hey,” he said gently.  “I understand.  Are you sure you’re good to go?  You don’t have to do this, like I said.”

She opened her eyes and nodded.  “Yeah.  I’m good,” she promised.  “Thanks, Oliver,” she hugged him.  That was getting more common, Felicity hugging him.  But it was still just as difficult for him as the first time.  It was so hard not to sweep her into his arms and crush her to him and never let go.  He had to restrain himself with her.  So, like always, he wrapped one arm around her waist and held her to him, offering the small amount of comfort he trusted himself to give.

He felt her sigh, like she knew what he was doing and it exasperated her on some small level.  And then she did something she _hadn’t_ done before that caught him completely off-guard.  She reached up on her toes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek before letting go.

She stepped back, opened her mouth to say something, when the door to the supply closet swung open, revealing Roy in a card-dealer’s tuxedo.  “Hey, what are you two doing in here?” he demanded.  “Playing seven minutes in Heaven or something?  Let’s roll.  The target just showed up.”

“Right!”  Felicity said, embarrassed but collecting herself.  “Let’s go!” she said, brushing past him to follow Roy.

Oliver’s hand caught hold of the tips of her fingers and she turned to look at him.  He gave her a small smile and leaned down to kiss her forehead.  “Felicity Smoak,” he said, “You are ten times the woman your mother could ever hope to be.  Don’t forget that.”


	15. Lance Knows—Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: I'm so sorry if you are sick of this prompt already, but can we pleaseeeeee have one last part of "Lance Knows" :) It's just fantastic!!!!

“YOUR SKIRTS ARE TOO SHORT, DAMN IT!”

Felicity blinked at him.  “I…what?” she deadpanned.

“Ho-kay, that’s our cue to go,” Diggle said, making for the door suddenly.

“Yeah, later!” Roy said quickly, hastily following Diggle.

Oliver swallowed nervously.  He hadn’t actually meant to say that out loud, but she’d been badgering him and it had just slipped out.

“EXCUSE ME?” Felicity belted out, and he cringed.

It was defensive, really, him arguing back.  He was backed into a corner.  Did he really have any other option?  “Listen, it is not my fault I got distracted by your inappropriate wardrobe.”

Felicity sputtered, looking at him mutinously.  “I’m sorry,” she said slowly, when she finally regained the ability to speak, “are you blaming the fact that you just completely screwed up and revealed your identity to someone on the _length of my skirts?”_

“If you’re going to be down on your hands and knees working on cables, the least you can do is wear some clothes that don’t let me know the color of your underwear!”  _God, stop talking, you moron!_ Oliver heard a voice say inside his head, wondering what on earth he was doing.

Felicity’s jaw nearly hit the floor.  “Oliver, are you out of your misogynistic mind?”

“I’m not misogynistic, I’m just human!”  _Seriously, Oliver, shut up.  Stop before you do anymore damage._

“Listen, don’t you dare go blaming it on me if you can’t control your male urges!”

“I wouldn’t have trouble controlling them if you weren’t bent over in the corner putting your ass on display like a stripper!”  _Oh my God, what have I done?_

She let out a sarcastic laugh.  “Oh my God, I would so slap you right now if I were a violent person!” she said angrily.

“Well thank you for not slapping me!” he said equally angrily.

“You’re welcome!” she yelled.

“Good!”

“Good!”

They stared at one another heatedly.  

“Are you really turned on right now?  Because—”

“Shut up, Oliver,” Felicity said, grabbing his neck and bringing her lips crashing into his.


	16. Some Things Don't Take a Day Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Oliver finds out Felicity has been taken hostage on a rare night off for the Arrow. Oliver is relaxing in his new apartment, ready to watch a mindless sitcom when the local news cuts in with news that Big Belly Burger was targeted by masked criminals and has taken hostages. He sees a glimpse of Felicity’s ponytail on the news footage and is up and changing into his leathers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This legit just became my new favorite. LOVE whoever’s headcannon this was—thanks for dropping such a gem on my doorstep, Anon! Seriously, screw a drabble…I could have done a whole multi-chapter about this! lol

_“You need to go home,”_ she’d said.  “ _Just…relax.  Actually spend a night in your new apartment,”_ she’d insisted.  _“Things have been quiet for weeks.  Roy and Diggle have got it covered tonight.  They can call_ me _if they get into anything.  You need a solid night’s sleep.”_

Oliver sighed.  Agreeing that he could do with a night off was one thing.  Actually sitting still and resting?  That was an entirely different matter.  He looked around the apartment.  It suited him, really.  Which was mainly due to the fact that Felicity had helped him select it.  It had an open floor plan and, well, easily defensible entrances and exits.  But it had some nice personal touches, too…again, owing to Feliicty, mainly.  The carpet in the bedroom was soft and plush, and there was room enough for a large bed.  The windows were tall and wide, letting in lots of sunlight during the day, but they’d been fitted with bullet proof glass and a state-of-the-art security system.  Something to help him attempt to sleep soundly at night.

But with all the effort put into finding the right place, he seemed to barely spend more than 15 minutes there a day.  And now, now he was finding it incredibly difficult to rewire his brain long enough to actually enjoy it.  He was starting to wish he had company.  He briefly debated calling Felicity, but knew that hearing from him defeated the purpose of _her_ night off: to actually have a life outside of him and his crusade.

Shaking his head, he turned on the television instead, hoping that a cheap soap opera or a mindless sitcom would help put him to sleep.  As he surfed through the channels, his heart stopped when he almost skipped past the news, where a security feed from one of the cameras in Big Belly Burger was being broadcast.  It wasn’t the fact that the location was familiar.  It wasn’t the fact that a couple of men in ski masks were holding a burger place hostage—a robbery gone awry.  It wasn’t even the numerous patrons of that establishment, crouched on the floor with their hands on their heads.  It was the blonde ponytail of one of those patrons that made his heart stop cold in his chest.  He knew that hair.  He knew that woman.

It never occurred to him to call Diggle and Roy or even to stop and talk to Lance outside of Big Belly Burger.  He wasn’t even aware of exactly when or where he had changed into the suit.  It was adrenaline, mainly, fueling him as he swept in, and a burst of rage coursing through him, when he saw one of the masked men grab her by the hair, hold a gun to her head, and start yelling to everyone in the room that if anyone else “tried to get brave” like she had done, that he’d kill each and every one of them.

It took every ounce of self control Oliver had to send the arrow through his hand and not his brain.  The other man tried to fire his gun and met the same fate, the bullet burying itself in the wall a yard to the left of Oliver.  Neither of them had stood a chance.

Felicity shot him a warning look as the police stormed in, but he ignored her.  He didn’t give a damn if the police knew she was important to him.  He didn’t give a damn if anyone knew.  As a matter of fact, he hoped it sent a message to everyone in the city: You do not mess with Felicity Megan Smoak and walk away from it intact.

He didn’t care about the numerous other citygoers with eyes on him as he crossed the room to her, didn’t even notice the way they parted like the Red Sea to allow him to get to her.  All that mattered to him was the moment he reached her and held her face in his hands.  “Are you all right?” he murmured just low enough for her to hear.

She nodded.  “I’m fine.  I’m sorry; I can’t believe you had to come out here for this.  This is so ridiculous,” she said, self-deprecatingly.

The corner of his mouth pulled upward in a barely detectable smile.  “Only you,” he said quietly, “would find a way to be held hostage on the one night you insisted I stay home.”  He smoothed back her hair.  “Can I take you home?” he asked.

Eyes darting around at the room full of people watching them in fascination, she finally nodded again.  She was going to have to hack the security feed of Big Belly Burger to erase the tape of this, she thought to herself as she let him lead her out of the building.  Even the police stopped to stare at the woman being led away with the Arrow’s arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder.  Somewhere amongst them, Quentin Lance rolled his eyes and shook his head.  But Oliver clearly didn’t care.  He didn’t give a damn, apparently, if the whole city saw them together.

“Now I know,” she said wearily as she threw a leg over his bike a block away, “how Lois Lane over in Metropolis must feel.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her with an amused expression before passing her the helmet.  “Good.  No one’s dumb enough to mess with Lois Lane anymore,” he said.

Felicity chuckled.  No, she supposed no one _would_ mess with Lois Lane these days now that they knew Superman had her back.  “So,” she asked, hesitating to put on the helmet, “did you actually _try_ to relax at home?  Like, even a little?”

“I was doing well before you went and got yourself held hostage,” he accused humorously.

“Liar.”

He winked at her.

“And anyway, I almost took him out myself thanks to the training from you and Digg.  Only, I’m wearing jeans,” she looked down ruefully at her chosen attire, “which are much less flexible than yoga pants, unfortunately.”

Oliver pressed his lips together, trying not to laugh.

“Hey!  I really did almost have him!”

“And what were you going to do about the second one?” he asked.

“I…hadn’t gotten that far in my plan yet.”

“Right,” he sighed.  “Put the helmet on, Felicity.”

She sighed, rolling her eyes.  Just before putting on the helmet, she followed an impulse instead.  “Oliver?” she asked.  His head turned back again for her, and she cupped the side of his face,  tugging him back so she could plant a firm kiss on his lips.  He was surprised at first, but then twisted around to better return it, slipping an arm around her waist to pull her further around him, so that she had to hold onto his shoulders to keep from falling right off the bike, the helmet dropping straight out of her hands to the ground.

When she finally pulled back, he couldn’t help asking.  “What was that for?”  After all, he’d saved her life numerous times, really, and they’d never kissed over it before.

“For never taking a day off,” she said.  “And for always coming for me.”  She paused, then her face scrunched up as he started to laugh.  “My brain really does think of the worst way to say things,” she groaned.


	17. We Give Them Something to Talk About

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: i kinda wanna see what olicity looks like from lyla and walter's pov. walter doesn't know he is the arow and even though lyla knows, she is not that close to the core team, minus digg. kinda interesting to know what they think :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to tack on a couple of extra perspectives to keep it interesting.

**Walter** :

Walter had always liked Felicity.  She was an amusing and, what’s more, an impressive young lady.  She was incredibly intelligent and refreshingly sweet and honest woman, and he had definitely developed a fondness for her.  So although it didn’t surprise him we she caught Oliver Queen’s attention, it did cause his eyebrows to dart upward a couple of degrees.  The promotion, though, in Walter’s eyes, easily justifiable given Felicity’s skills, caused Walter even more concern.  After all, although _he_ was aware of Felicity’s qualifications, he wasn’t entirely certain that Oliver was aware of anything beyond her fuchsia lipstick and admittedly questionable hemlines.

In a way, Walter realized he thought of her in a somewhat fatherly way, and although Oliver was as good as a son to him these days, he would gladly threaten Oliver with a shotgun if he suspected foul play in Felicity’s regard.  
  


 **Lyla** :

Lyla thought they were adorable.  “Are you _sure_ they’re not together, Johnny?” she asked Diggle for the hundredth time as they left a brief encounter with the pair of blondes.  Diggle just chuckled, reiterating for the dozenth time that yes, he was sure they weren’t together.  “He acts like an overprotective boyfriend around her, though.  Did you see the look on his face when that guy was flirting with her?  I thought he was gonna go for the jugular!”  She tapped a finger to her lips thoughtfully.  “Maybe you could—”

“No, Lyla.”

“What!  I’m not saying set them up, I’m just saying sort of nudge them in the right direction.”

“There is no amount of nudging that will work on those two.  I’m telling you.  He’s too stubborn and she’s becoming almost as guarded as he is.  Which is saying something.”

Lyla sighed.  “I just think they’d be cute together.  The way he _looks_ at her….”

Digg just chuckled, shaking his head.  Tell him about it.  
  


 **Laurel** :

At first, Laurel had to admit the slightest twinge of jealousy.  Learning that Sarah knew Oliver’s secret before she did had been one thing.  There were extenuating circumstances there, a long list of reasons why Sarah _should_ know.  But then there was this Felicity-girl.  It had been a real blow to discover that Felicity was involved with the Arrow and knew Oliver’s identity in-and-out.  Laurel had always sort of…not ‘dismissed’ her per se, just…overlooked her.  She was supposed to just be Oliver’s secretary.  Well, ‘Executive Assistant,’ if you wanted to be politically correct, which Laurel did.  But the point was, she was furniture, in Laurel’s mind (which she was ashamed to admit).  She’d given Felicity about as much credit as a light fixture.  It had just never occurred to her how important Felicity was, even when she started to realize that Oliver had some sort of strange friendship with her, rather than the working relationship Laurel had initially assumed of them.

But then, once she’d gotten past that initial pang of envy, something still more surprising had replaced it: gratitude.  This girl…woman…person…she had been there for Oliver in all of the ways that Laurel had failed to lately.  She had supported him, had believed in him back when Laurel had been trying to have him arrested.  And Felicity…she had been the one to first make Oliver start questioning the need to kill, and—from what Laurel had learned—Felicity had been the one to convince Oliver to take up his mantle as The Arrow after Tommy’s death, to help him turn over a new leaf and stop killing.  She would always regret not being there for Oliver during that time, whether as himself or as the Arrow.  But Felicity had been.  Felicity had been a glimmer of light in his dark world, and for that, because Laurel truly cared about Oliver very deeply, she would always be grateful to Felicity.  Whether or not she would ever find a way to acknowledge it…that was another story altogether.

 **Lance** :

He was gonna get her killed.

Lance didn’t know if he meant Oliver Queen or The Arrow, but he frequently had the same thought around both men.  Although he had long since let bygones be bygones with Oliver Queen, and had clearly forged some sort of bizarre alliance with The Arrow, he still didn’t like seeing that young, innocent girl involved with either of them.  Maybe it was because in some ways Felicity reminded him of his daughters in a more innocent time, but he felt very protective of the young woman.  She was something special, a girl like that willing to stand up against evil when no one had ever asked her to.

But seeing Oliver Queen around her made Lance nervous, because he just kept worrying that Queen was going to find some way to break her heart, even though he had no reason to suspect they were even dating.  In fact, Lance realized with a furrowed brow, he had no idea what the Smoak-girl’s relationship was to her boss.  He just got the feeling it wasn’t strictly business.

As for the vigilante-business, it freaked Lance out no end seeing her so deeply involved.  She was constantly being put in danger, and he could tell that it made the archer almost as nervous as it did him, so he forever wondered why the man let her do it.

 _Damn it all, he’d better marry her one day or he’s a complete moron,_ Lance thought angrily one night after a brief meeting with Felicity over a new case, not sure exactly which moron he was referring to in his head.


	18. Show Me Your Moves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Oliver has to endure a guy feeding Felicity cheesy pick-up lines all evening, while she seems to appreciate and even fall for them. Afterwards he's broody and critical and tries some of his personal playboy billionaire repertoire to prove he's better!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit where credit is due: I stole the opening line from the film Crazy Stupid Love, which is one of my favorites because GOSLING.

“Wow, you are really wearing that dress like you’re doing it a favor.”

Oliver ground his teeth together.  But before he could come to Felicity’s aid and send the idiot away, she laughed.  No, she actually giggled.  Oliver cocked an eyebrow and sent a glare in the pair’s direction.  Neither of them noticed.

It continued all evening.  The worst part, Oliver realized, as he watched this nimrod hit on Felicity, was that it was really like watching a younger, pre-island version of himself hitting on her.  And Felicity could do so much better than a younger, pre-island version of him.

Like an older, post-island version of him, for instance.

“Listen, mister, you’re laying it on pretty thick,” Felicity said, obviously not put out by the fact at all.

“Hey, I can’t help it if you are by far the most attractive thing I have seen all night.”

Oliver was going to ban Felicity from Verdant, that was all there was to it.  She obviously didn’t not have the common sense to steer clear of complete assholes and players like she should.

“So whad’you say?” the guy finally asked, as Oliver’s jaw ticked in the background, not spying, just…waiting in case Felicity sent up the signal she needed rescue.  “Wanna get out of here?”

Felicity bit her lip, sorely tempted.  It had been months since the last time she had sex and to be honest, her vibrator really wasn’t doing the trick lately.  It would be so nice to just blow off some steam with a little no-strings-attached fun, and—she looked the nameless guy over—he promised plenty of fun.  But somehow, she knew it wasn’t what she really needed.  Some things were just better left alone.  And he was probably a jerk, anyway, based on the ridiculous lines he’d been dropping on her, flattering though the attention might be.  Biting her lip, she finally shook her head.  “I’m sorry; I’d rather stay here.”

“Aw, c’mon, gorgeous.  Think about it: you, me, somewhere dark and private….”  He trailed off suggestively.

Felicity just stepped back a little.  “Sorry.  I appreciate the offer, but I’m not interested,” she said more firmly.

The guy opened his mouth, but Oliver had chosen this as his cue to step in.  “Hey, _gorgeous_ ,” he said teasingly, mimicking the other guy and meeting Felicity’s eyes, which were flashing with surprised laughter.  “Care for a dance?”

She nodded, dropping her drink on the counter and allowing Oliver to tug her away into the sea of gyrating bodies beneath the flashing green lights.

“Thanks,” she grinned when he had her safely on the other side of the room, safely away from her cheesy admirer.

“Uh huh,” Oliver said.  “I can’t believe you put up with him for that long in the first place.”

“I wasn’t putting up with him,” Felicity argued with a laugh.  “It was cute.  Sort of.”

Oliver gave her a look.  “Seriously?  That guy was lame.”

“Lame?” she echoed, amused.  “I mean, yeah he was cheesy, but I happen to like being flirted with now and again.  It’s a nice confidence boost.”

He scoffed.  “ _Please_.  That hardly even qualifies as flirting, dropping lame-ass lines on you like that.”

Felicity crossed her arms and gave him a challenging look.  “Oh?  And tell me, oh master of mindlessly hitting on women, what does real flirtation look like, exactly?  Because us plebeians only have limited experience, you know.”

“Real flirtation?” he repeated.

She replied thoughtlessly, not realizing what she was invoking, “Yeah, Oliver, show me your moves.  If you’re such an expert, _you_ show me what the real thing looks like.”

“This,” he said, a firm hand grabbing her hip and hauling her up against him.  Her lips parted in surprise as her hands flew to his chest for balance, and he gave her his best seductive look, meeting her eyes first before dropping his gaze to her lips and lingering there for a minute.  He leaned in so close she thought for sure he was going to kiss her, and for a brief fragment of a second, she could swear their lips just barely brushed against each other before he spoke, “Felicity Smoak, if you’ll let me, I’d like to take you home and make passionate love to you until you’re crying out my name and seeing stars.”

She felt the air rush right out of her as a flood of lust shot through her.  
Oliver smirked, loosening his hold on her just enough that she couldn’t feel his breath anymore.

“Damn,” she said.  “I never gave the girls you’ve slept with much credit before, but I kinda get why you’d be hard to resist.  I mean, if I didn’t know you were just acting, I’d be all over you right now, too.”

His smirk broadened and he leaned over to speak into her ear, hand squeezing her hip again.  “Who said I was acting, Felicity?”


	19. Immediately and Without Thought—Part IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: please please PLEASE! I need a part 4 of "Immediately and Without Thought" PLEASEEEEEEE

_I’m going to wait until you ask me to_ , Oliver had said, referring to kissing her.  She’d been fairly angry with him at the time, but admittedly, his sincere apology had done plenty to soften her toward him, in spite of his unacceptable behavior.

What she hadn’t been expecting was exactly what he meant by that closing statement.  It had taken finishing a pint of ice cream for Felicity to realize he actually meant that he wanted to kiss her.  Un-drugged, she reminded herself.  Sober.  Totally within his right mind, Oliver Queen wanted and intended to kiss her, just as soon as she said, “Hey would you please?”

Literally.

And he was now making it his mission in life, she determined grimly, to kill her.

“Are you even listening to me?” she demanded at the end of a long day at work, aggravated beyond reason.  Though it really wasn’t her fault.  He needed to stop doing…that.

“Mmhmm,” Oliver said, still looking at her lips and standing altogether too close to her.  He looked up to meet her eyes and waited.  When she didn’t say anything, just stood there trying to swallow but finding it strangely difficult, he backed away.

It was the third time today.

Later, in the ‘lair,’ he made no secret of the fact that he was still thinking about it.  Leaning over her so close she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up when she tried to show him something on the computer.  But never touching her.  Oh no.  He was firmly toeing the imaginary line he’d drawn in the sand, basically daring him to step over it to him.

She understood what he was doing, of course.  He’d confessed he wanted her, but after what happened when he was drugged, he was giving her the choice, making sure it was her decision, rather than forcing it on her.

The problem was, Felicity thought, tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth as he reached around her to grab his water bottle a little while later—once again thoroughly invading her personal space and meeting her eyes as he did so—yes the problem, was that he was actually making her crazy, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about crossing that stupid line he’d drawn.  
But she was supposed to be annoyed with him, was supposed to be going on a date with Daniel later that week, to make up for the one that Oliver had ruined.  She was supposed to be monitoring the police network, not staring at him as he punched the training dummy in all his sweaty, shirtless glory.

Really, it was completely predictable that it didn’t take her more than a couple of days to break down.  She’d walked into his office to hand him a file, and he’d placed a hand on it, meeting her eyes and glancing at her lips again, with that obnoxious, smoldering look that made her knees turn all wobbly.

 _Goddammit_ , she thought.

“Oliver?” she said, still staring at him staring at her mouth.

“Mmhmm?”

“I’m asking.”

“Asking what?” he said, smirking, eyes lifting to meet hers.

 _You know damn well what_.  “Just kiss me already, for god’s sake!” she exclaimed breathlessly, and he wasted no time at all in closing the distance between them, claiming her lips passionately and wrapping his arms around her.  “I hate you,” she murmured irritably against his mouth.  “Really.  I really, really do.”

“Uh huh,” Oliver said simply, not really caring as he slipped his tongue inside of her mouth and effectively silenced her for the time being.  _Thought you’d_ never _ask, Felicity,_ he thought, but kept it to himself.


	20. And You Are?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: How about Team Arrow going to Vegas for whatever reason and Felicity showing the guys around her old hangouts, maybe running into some old high school friends?

_Come on, Felicity_ , Digg had said.  _Show us around.  It’ll be fun,_ he’d said.  “Great, just great,” Felicity huffed, panicking.  “Hide me!”

“Hide you from what?” Digg asked as Oliver tensed, allowing Felicity to dodge behind him.  “What’s wrong?”

They were at the coffee shop she and her friends used to hang out at growing up, because Digg and Oliver had insisted she show them something only a local could know about, as long as they had an extra day in Vegas, post-mission.  She figured after the whirlwind of flashing lights, slot machines, and women in feathers, this would be a nice stop.  After all, this place had once boast the best home-made cookies she’d ever tasted, and her mouth had started watering just thinking about it.

It had never occurred to her that she might actually run into someone she knew.  “Oh my God oh my God he’s coming over, let’s go.  Let’s just go!” she tugged on a confused Oliver’s arm.  He didn’t understand what was going on, and it cost her dearly.

“Felicity Smoak!  Is that you?”

She cringed before stepping out from behind Oliver.

“Er…hi!” she said, waving meekly.  “How’s it, uh, how’s it going, Ed?”

“Ed?” Oliver mouthed confusedly at Diggle, who just shrugged.

“My God it _is_ you,” Ed said, grinning from ear to ear in a predatory way that made Oliver’s jaw tick.  “Felicity Smoak!”  He shook his head.  “I almost didn’t recognize you with the hair,” he gestured her blonde locks and Felicity shifted uncomfortably.

“Yep, well, we were just passing through, so I guess we’ll—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, let me buy you a coffee.”

“I’m with friends, actually—”

Ed seemed to notice Oliver and Diggle for the first time, and he did a double-take, exaggerating, from Oliver’s impression, his surprise that they were with Felicity.  “Oh!” he said.  “Well by all means, you’re both welcome.  Any friends of Smoakey’s here are friends of mine.”

“Smoakey?” Oliver mouthed at Felicity, who gave him a warning look.

“Hey, guys, look who it is!” Ed called out, drawing the attention of a couple of other men, who both looked up curiously.

“Felicity!” they cried out, barstools scraping as they came to hug Felicity, who was looking more uncomfortable by the second.

“Hi, guys,” Felicity said, straightening her glasses, which had been skewed on her nose from the bustle.  “These are my friends Oliver and John.”

“Hi,” Diggle greeted presently, while Oliver crushed Ed’s grip in an overly firm handshake.  Felicity noticed the gesture out of her peripheral and smirked.

“John, Oliver…this is Mike and Brent.  And you’ve met Ed now,” she added dismissively.  Ed remained unfazed, but instead herded everyone into a booth, sandwiching Felicity between himself and Oliver with Mike and Brent across from them and Diggle pulling up a chair to straddle at the end of the booth.

“So what brings the homecoming queen to town, anyway?  We had no idea,” Mike asked pleasantly, obviously unaware of Felicity discomfort.

“You were the homecoming queen?” Oliver asked before he could stop himself.

“And the valedictorian,” Brent added conversationally.

“We were just talking about you the other day,” Ed said, throwing an arm around Felicity’s shoulder, although flinching noticeably when he saw the murderous expression on Oliver’s face.

Felicity tensed and slid away, closer to Oliver, who rested a reassuring hand on her knee at the same time Ed reluctantly dropped his arm.

“Yeah, Felicity and Ed used to date,” Mike explained while Ed was signaling to the girl at the counter to bring them all a round of coffees.

“No kidding,” Diggle said interestedly, leaning forward while Oliver short Ed a distrustful look.

“Mmhmm,” Felicity said in a slightly strained voice.  “But that was eons ago.  Like, years and years and years.  Ancient history so old nobody would even remember it at all,” she babbled breathlessly.

“Oh please,” Ed said.  “Are you kidding?  We were the talk of the town.”

“Only because you were dating Becca Shelor at the same time,” Felicity murmured in a voice so low that only Oliver heard it.

“I’ll never get over Felicity running off to MIT, y’know.  Broke my heart,” he said, clutching his chest with a dramatic, wounded expression.

“Well,” Oliver said, putting his own arm around Felicity’s shoulder.  He sent a subtle wink in Diggle’s direction, who stifled a grin.  “I can understand that.”

Ed quirked an eyebrow.  “Uh huh.  And…how do you two know my girl, exactly?  What do you do?”

“I’m not your girl, Ed,” Felicity said irritably, but no one seemed to notice.

"I’m a friend of hers," John was saying, "and Oliver’s—"

“The CEO of Queen Consolidated,” Oliver cut in.  “And Felicity’s partner.  In more ways than one,” he added with a suggestive grin.  Felicity stared at him like he’d lost his mind, but he just squeezed her shoulder affectionately.

“What?” she said, confused.  “Oh.  Oh!  Right.  Oliver.  Boyfriend.  Mmhmm,” she said, nodding.  She reached up and laced her fingers with the hand resting on her shoulder.

“Oh,” Edward said, clearly displeased with this development.

“Yeah, I don’t know what I’d do without Felicity in my life,” Oliver said, planting a sappy kiss to her temple.  “I can’t imagine why any man would let her get away, y’know?  Even I’m not good enough for her, and, well, I’m Oliver Queen,” he winked at Ed and Felicity swallowed a laugh.  “Really, though, Ed, I know you guys just ordered us some coffees, but we really can’t stay.  Felicity promised us a brief tour before we head home,” he explained.  “And we were just thinking that a cappuccino on the jet sounded more appetizing anyway,” he grinned at her.  “Don’t you agree, sweetheart?”

“I do!” John piped up raising his hand from the back of the chair and obviously deeply amused.  He pushed away from the chair he was straddling and Brent and Mike rose as well.

“Gosh it was nice to see you again, Felicity,” they said.  “And meet your friends.  You guys should come for a longer visit sometime, do the full experience.”  Mike shook Diggle’s hand, while Brent reached across the table to shake Oliver’s.  Oliver returned the gesture genially while Ed reluctantly rose.

“Well, it’s been great, Dave,” Oliver said as he let Felicity get up first.

“Ed,” Ed corrected.

“Uh huh,” Oliver said, barely noticing.  “Too bad we couldn’t stay to chat, but I’m sure you know how it goes.”  He clapped Ed on the back a little too hard, causing the man’s knees to buckle.

“Bye, Ed!” Felicity said cheerfully, barely sparing him a glance before allowing Brent and Mike to hug her goodbye this time.

“Stay in touch, Smoakey,” Mike said, and Felicity’s smile became more fixed until they had all deserted the coffee shop.

“Okay, I gotta know,” Diggle said, finally releasing the laughter he’d been containing.  _“Smoakey?”_

“Ed called me that all through high school.  I hated it,” she grimaced.

“Not exactly a term of endearment, is it?” Oliver said, placing his arm around her shoulders again, but this time in a more friendly gesture, and dragging her into his side as they walked in the direction of the rental car.

“He was a moron.  And I was infatuated.  Biggest regret of Felicity Smoak: the teen years.  By the way,” she added, pausing to stretch up on her toes and kiss him on the cheek.

Oliver grinned.  “What’s that for?”

“For being an overprotective idiot exactly when I needed it most,” she said pleasantly, while Diggle watched them with an amused smile.  He shook his head.  One of these days they were going to figure it out.  Hopefully sooner than later.


	21. Wordless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Can you do an Olicity fic set on a plane (or private jet really with Oliver's power) and it's a bit similar to Mindy/Danny a la Mindy Project where Danny/Oliver realizes his feelings for Mindy/Felicity while she goes to do something that she knows will calm him down and he realizes she knows him better than anyone else. Can be hot or romantic, whichever way you like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I confess to not having seen the Mindy Project yet, but I researched the scene on YouTube before writing this and have seen the error of my ways.

“Are you okay?” Felicity asked finally.  Oliver had a white-knuckled grip on the armrest of his seat.  “I know that…can’t have been easy for you,” she said finally.

Oliver closed his eyes briefly before looking at her.  His expression said all she needed to know.  She reached out and gently covered his hand.  “Hey, whatever business practices your father engaged in before…you had no way of knowing.  We’ll be back in Starling soon, and…we’ll fix this.  Together,” she pushed her glasses back up her nose and gave him an encouraging smile.  She stood and headed for the galley of the jet.

“What’re you doing?” he asked.

“I’m getting you a coffee, Oliver.”  _Because you deserve it_ , she let the unspoken reason hang in the air, and Oliver watched her go with a nearly broken look on his face.

He shook his head, releasing a breath.  God, she was really remarkable.  How she could see the destruction his family had caused and not associate him with it was astonishing to him, unfathomable.  And the fact that she knew exactly what would make him feel better was even more incredible.  Coffee…it had become something of a secret code between them, he realized.  She never, _never_ brought him coffee at work.  And rarely anywhere else.  But she got some for him when she went on a run for herself.  And she would bring him a cup when they’d been up all night, working late, when he was feeling most run down, most desolate.  When he felt broken.  And somehow, it never failed to bring the tiniest of smiles to his lips when she wordlessly placed a mug in front of him.

 _It’s her way of saying she loves you_ , a small voice in his head acknowledged for the first time, and Oliver’s mouth fell open with the weight of it.  He looked up, crease between his brow.

He walked to the back of the plane where she was fussing with the compartments.

“I can’t find the coffee packets,” she said frustratedly.  “I think they forgot to re-stock the plane.  I—”

Oliver took the styrofoam cup out of her hand and placed it on the counter before cradling her face in his hands and cutting her off with a hard kiss.

She was surprised at first, too startled to respond, but then the silent meaning of what he was doing sunk in on him, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, eyes fluttering closed as he kissed her into understanding that he loved her.


	22. Puzzle Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: holding hands in the car

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might not be what you envisioned; I dunno. But it was what happened, so I just went with it. :)

Oliver glanced at her out of the corner of his eye.  She was exhausted, head bobbing as she struggled to stay awake.  He smiled gently and wasn’t remotely surprised when she finally slumped onto his shoulder and passed out next to him in the back seat.

“Long trip?” Digg asked from the driver’s seat, grinning.

Yawning, Oliver nodded.  “Yeah.  It’s good to be home.”

“Did you two manage to have any fun while you were there?  Or was it Russia all over again?” Diggle teased.

Oliver gave him a grumpy look, unamused.  “Must you always bring up Russia?”

Digg just chuckled.  “Maybe,” he said quietly enough that Oliver didn’t hear.

Ignoring him, Oliver looked at Felicity again and smoothed down her hair, which had gotten mussed on the airport tarmac.  Seeing that her breathing had evened out, he gently shift so she would be a little more comfortable, and her hand tumbled onto his lap.

He was too tired to war with himself, so he went with impulse instead, enclosing her small hand in his, and lacing their fingers together.  Hers was so small and soft compared to his large, calloused one.  But it fit in his palm almost perfectly.  He smiled, eyes starting to droop.  That was a nice thought, that their hands fit like puzzle pieces.  As he began to drift off, his head slowly dropping to rest on top of hers, he thought he felt her hand gently squeeze his before relaxing again.

Up front, Diggle adjusted the mirror of the car and grinned when he saw the pair of them passed out, holding hands.  It was an interesting thing, watching those two dance around one another, but what was most telling were the moments when they managed to feel safe and relax around one another.


	23. Clueless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Hey! I would love an established Olicity where they think they're being sneaky about it but really everyone knows. Bonus points for Digg's judgy eyebrows and Sara and Thea commentary.

_“Hey, I was craving sushi and I thought you and Felicity might like to get dinner with me tonight.”_

Oliver’s eyebrow arched as he listened to his sister.  “What makes you think Felicity’s with me?”

The quirked an eyebrow at him over the phone.  “ _Well, if she’s not, then maybe you’d like to join me for sushi by yourself,”_ she said, rather than arguing the point.

“Ummm…sure, yeah, why don’t I meet you later?  Text me the restaurant?”

Thea rolled her eyes.  _“Okay, sure.”_

Oliver said goodbye and hung up.  Felicity looked at him.  “But…sushi sounds really good,” she whined.

He chuckled.  “Weren’t you the one, just the other day, saying how fun it is that no one knows?”

Across town, Thea glanced at her cell phone again and shook her head.  “What a couple of idiots,” she grumbled.  
  


* * *

Later that night, in the lair, Diggle, Roy, and Sara all looked on in amusement as Oliver absent-mindedly toyed with Felicity’s pony-tail.  The pair kept acting like nothing had changed, but it was the little gestures like this…mainly from Oliver’s side, that told them otherwise.  Oliver never allowed himself those kind of liberties with Felicity before, and if he had, Felicity would have noticed.  Instead, she was just going about her work on her computer like nothing abnormal had happened.

As Sara and Roy finished a sparring match, which ended—as usual—with Sara offering a friendly hand to help Roy up off of the mat, she noticed Roy’s eyes dart indicatively in Oliver and Felicity’s direction, signaling to her to have a look.

Discretely, Sara followed the direction of his glance and stifled a smirk when she saw that Oliver’s hand had drifted from Felicity’s ponytail to her back, on which he was gently drawing circles with his thumb.

She and Roy shared a look, which said quite plainly, _Those two are the_ worst _actors on the face of the earth._

Eventually, everyone started to call it a day, and Oliver said something vague about meeting Thea for sushi.  He determinedly didn’t look at Felicity, who determinedly didn’t look back at him, having previously discussed when and how she was going to ‘accidentally’ run into him and Thea at the restaurant.  Oliver left first, and moments later, to no one’s surprise, Felicity received a text on her phone.

“Oh!” she said.  “My neighbor wants me to check whether she turned off the lights.  Guess I’d better go do that.  Now,” she added awkwardly, trying a little too hard to sound convincing.

Roy and Sara watched her go, and Digg folded his arms and raised his eyebrows at her as she left, telling her quite plainly that she was fooling exactly no one.

Felicity didn’t notice.

Outside, within minutes, she was greeted by Oliver, who appeared very suddenly and swept her into a kiss, which she happily returned.  “They bought it,” she informed him confidently.  “See at the restaurant in twenty?” she asked while he was still trying to kiss her.

Sighing, he smiled, kissing the tip of her nose instead.  “Sure.  But I say we go ahead and tell Thea.  She should know.”

“What about the others?”

Oliver lifted his shoulder lightly.  “When the time is right.  For now—”

“It’s kind of nice keeping it to ourselves,” she finished for him, grinning.

He smiled back.  “Yeah.”

“You really don’t think any of them know?”

“They haven’t got a clue.”

* * *

Downstairs, Roy, Sara, and Diggle looked at one another.

“Do they really still think we don’t know?” Roy finally asked, to which Sara laughed and Diggle just shook his head wearily.


	24. Never Have I Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: How about Felicity and Oliver get tipsy and end up sharing sex stories which turns into a little fun for them ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At one point, I planned to just go ahead and make this its own entity on AO3 because it spiraled so far out of control.
> 
> I lied. I am lazy. It's going here.
> 
> SMUT WARNING

“You’re telling me,” Felicity said, slamming her glass down on the table a little too hard, “with _all_ the women— _all the hundreds of women_ —”

“Hey!  It hasn’t been hundreds.  Maybe…dozens, but definitely not hundreds.”

“Whatever,” Felicity waved a dismissive hand.  “With all the women you’ve been with…not one time have you ever done it with a vibrator?  _God_ , I always assumed you were so kinky and crap…I mean, not that I spend a lot of time thinking about the many methods you’ve employed while having sex, but just…you’re supposed to be the worldly, experienced one here,” she pointed out, gesturing between them and growing redder by the minute as she tried to reconnect her brain to her mouth and failed miserably.

Oliver, recognizing her sudden embarrassment, raised his glass.  “Drink,” he said simply, and she immediately lifted her glass to clink against his before they both tipped back another swallow.

Cringing as the burning liquid slid down his throat and vaguely wondering exactly when the room had started spinning, Oliver looked at Felicity, “The opportunity never really presented itself.  So are you saying you _have_?”

She shook her head rapidly.  “Nope,” her lips popped the ‘p’ dramatically.  “But I’ve always wanted to try it.  I mean…I love men…I love my vibrator…and all these freaking websites love to advertise their toys for couples’ sex, and I’ve always been like, ‘pfft, who does that?’   But I guess I also kind of assumed ‘Well people like Oliver Queen do that, obviously.’  But apparently you don’t.  So I guess no one does.  Which actually makes me kind of sad.  Because I’ve always thought it sounded super hot.”

Oliver’s eyebrows raised and his cock jerked to attention as he was bombarded with various sordid images of Felicity pleasuring herself with a vibrator, and then, after he took another sip in a misguided attempt to calm himself, of various images of him pleasuring her with a vibrator.

“I feel so disillusioned,” Felicity joked, taking another drink.  “What kind of world do we live in where _Oliver Queen_ doesn’t even fulfill my sex fantasies?”  She paused.  “I mean—”

“I know what you meant,” Oliver chuckled, stopping her before she felt the need to dive into an undoubtedly amusing but long-winded explanation.

Felicity looked relieved.  “See, that’s why I love talking to you.  Because even when I say completely stupid _Shit!”_ she broke off suddenly when she sloshed a little of her drink on her lap.

Oliver leapt up to grab a dishtowel from her sink and started mopping up her thighs, not noticing the way she held her breath nervously as he did so.

“Well, Felicity,” he said jovially as he finished drying her skirt  and dropped the towel on the counter, “I’m incredibly sorry I didn’t live up to your expectations.”

“There’s still time!” she teased.  “You’re not dead, yet!  You can still do it and report back to me later about how it was.”

Well that just seemed stupid, Oliver thought drunkenly.  “Why report back when you could just experience it first hand?”

Felicity stared at him and he slowly became aware that he had said that second part out loud.  He felt his face growing hot as Felicity started to giggle, the pointing a finger at him with the hand holding her drink as she laughed, “Oh my God, now you know what it feels like!”

Naturally, Oliver felt that the only proper way to silence her giggling was by kissing her.  In his defense, it worked fairly well, the laughter dying on her lips as his molded to them, one of his hands sliding over her cheek to cup her face while the other deftly removed her glass from her hands before she could spill any more on either of them.  “Fuck, you taste like whiskey,” she mumbled against his mouth.  “Which is really attractive, by the way.”

The corners of Oliver’s mouth tugged treacherously but he focused instead on plying her lips apart to slip his tongue inside her mouth to find out whether she tasted like whiskey, too.

She did.

She moaned as his tongue dominantly massaged hers, her hands gripping the barstool beneath her like she was afraid to let go and touch him.  Which was stupid, he decided.  He wanted her to touch him.  His free hand dropped to her waist and he tugged her forward so that they flew up to his chest to prevent her from falling.  Not satisfied, he pulled harder, until she was drawn from the seat and between his legs, flush against his chest while he explored her mouth.

His right hand slid around her neck, encouraging her to continue the kiss while his left hand dipped down from her waist and around her back before dropping over her plump ass—a subject of much previous admiration on his part—and squeezing it tightly.  She made what he felt was an absolutely excellent noise in response, pressing against him and he felt himself growing hard in response.

Felicity, meanwhile, could barely concentrate on one sensation at a time.  _Well_ , she thought hazily, _this is unexpected._   Her hands had, at some point, she noticed, fisted themselves in Oliver’s shirt, and she very distinctly felt what could only be his growing hard-on pressing against her belly.

Which was really fucking hot, by the way, she thought with a groan, attempting to diminish any remaining space between them as Oliver massaged her ass, which was an incredibly strange thing to have happening, but she found she didn’t particularly care.

Oliver, letting out a growl, suddenly grabbed her thighs forcefully with both hands, raising her up until she wrapped her legs around him with a slight yelp, arms banding around him tightly for support.

Having momentarily relinquished her mouth, he focused instead on exploring the taste of the soft, smooth skin of her throat, the supple point of her pulse, and the gentle curve of her shoulder.

“I hate your dresses,” he said irritably, when he found the sleeve of one such dress most unfortunately in his path.

“I hate them, too,” Felicity said irrationally, clinging to him for dear life as he carried her in the general direction of her bedroom.  “They should go.  All of them.  Should burn them.  Tomorrow.  All dresses go.  Definitely,” she babbled hopelessly.

Oliver smirked, digging his fingers mercilessly into her thighs for a moment as he crossed the threshold of her room and reveling in the way her legs tightened around him, before he reached her bed and threw her down on it, to which she responded with a resounding, “Oh!” of surprise.

The expression on Oliver’s face, Felicity decided, was nothing shy of predatory as he crawled toward her, and over her, and onto her….  His hands came snaking around her back to unzip the previously denounced dress and remove it, and she felt it was only fair to start unbuttoning his shirt in response.  Only…she was still very drunk and Oliver Queen attempting to (Oh, hell, who was she kidding? _successfully_ ) seducing her was making her clumsier than usual and buttons were hard.

He came to her aid, tearing the shirt away and tossing it to the ground beside her bed, eagerly pulling her back to him for another kiss.  “Oliver…you’re really drunk,” Felicity decided to inform him.  He pulled back and looked at her.  “I’m really, really drunk, too,” she added.

They both hesitated, doing their best to weigh the consequences of their actions and trying to determine if they really knew what they were doing.  
Felicity’s hands flew to the button of Oliver’s jeans at the same moment that his yanked her forward to unclasp her bra.  He ripped it off and tossed it aside before pushing her back onto the pillows and staring down at her lustfully.  All he could think about was her talking about damn vibrators.  _I love men…I love my vibrator…I’ve always thought it sounded hot…._

“Show me,” he said.  “Show me what you do when you’re alone.”

Felicity blinked at him, her face growing hot even as she felt a rush right in her core.  Another time, she might have been too surprised to react, but at the moment she was too tipsy and too turned on to care.  Slowly she raised her hands to play with her tits, fingers delicately tracing the pink buds until they hardened, flicking her thumbs over them, pinching them gently while Oliver watched, hypnotized.

Mouth watering and fingers aching to touch her, Oliver instead slid his hand inside his boxers and began to stroke his hardened length, eyes never once leaving the movement of her hands.  Felicity’s eyes drifted close and her head fell back as she arched into her hands, hips starting to squirm as the ache between her thighs grew more and more insistent until finally she let one hand drift down over her panties, and Oliver gripped his cock more tightly as he followed the progress of that hand, groaning when she began rubbing circles over her clit.

Impatient, Oliver interrupted.  “Where do you keep it, Felicity?”

Her eyes opened and she stared at him, not understanding.

“Your vibrator.”

Eyes widening as she understood his intentions, Felicity darted a glance at the nightstand drawer.  Leaning forward to brush a teasing, enticing kiss to her lips that had her leaning forward to try to draw more from him, Oliver covered her hand with his.  “Don’t stop,” he told her, and she whimpered as his hand pressed hers into her core, and she felt her wetness soak through her panties while she rubbed against her clit.

Oliver shed his pants and then reached for the nightstand drawer, rummaging beneath books and magazines and various items until his hand closed on what he’d been looking for: [smooth and bright purple, it was almost elegant, and it was very Felicity](http://www.lelo.com/index.php?collectionName=femme-homme&groupName=MONA-2&categoryId=462).  He smirked.  It was better than he’d expected.

“Lift your arms over your head,” he instructed and Felicity made a frustrated noise, her fingers rubbing hard against her pussy as her other hand continued to massage her breast.  He grabbed her wrist to stop her, lifting it above her head for her and pinning it there until she finally raised her other hand up to join it, trembling beneath his dominating gaze.

Lowering himself down her body, Oliver brushed a few kisses down her stomach before he reached her soaked panties.  He gripped them between his teeth and tugged them down her body while Felicity struggled to keep her hands in place as instructed., fisting her fingers in the pillowcase while Oliver now shoved her thighs apart, and, before she quite knew what to expect, wrapped his mouth around her clit and sucked on it.

“FUCK!” she cried out, thighs tightening involuntarily on either side of his head so that he had to press them open, her back arching wildly as his tongue drove her insane.  She was so far gone, she didn’t notice that Oliver had switched on the vibrator…until he dipped the tip of it inside of her.  “Oh my God,” she groaned, struggling to breathe, “Oh God, _Oliver!”_   His tongue was incessant and he was slowly sliding her vibrator further inside of her and she was starting to see stars at the edges of her eyes, her knuckles turning white and she held fast to the pillow above her head.  She was going to come.  She was fucking going to come and he’d barely started.

Slowly he dragged the toy out of her before pressing it back in, even deeper this time, and she cried out as it hit her G-spot, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure crashing over her as he continued teasing her clit.  He heard her crying out his name and he pumped the toy in and out of her twice more before her orgasm ripped through her.  He pulled back to watch but continued letting her ride the toys thrusts as she came, moaning and pleading his name until she finally melted into exhaustion and he pulled it out of her.  Oh God, he couldn’t wait to be inside her himself.  For now, he stroked the vibrator over her swollen pussy gently, a smug expression playing with his mouth as she whimpered in response to the attention.  He leaned forward and kissed her, letting her taste her juices on his tongue, and her hands flew forward to grab the back of his head, fingertips scraping against his scalp pleasurably as she pressed into him.

…until he hit the little “+” button he’d noticed on the vibrator and ran it over her clit, and her head fell backward with a loud cry, her hips bucking wildly.  She swore as he began circling her clit with the tip of the vibrator, and he disentangled her hands with his free one, pinning both her wrists above her head and holding them there while she writhed beneath him, her cries coming out in short, agonized bursts while he pleasured her.  Somewhere in the back of his inebriated mind a primal voice was looking at her with the thrill of possession.  How often did she play with this toy?  Pleasure herself alone?  Who did she think about when she did?  He dipped his head to suck at her neck, nipping at it with his teeth and leaving a mark while she came undone a second time, sobbing and shaking and magnificently satisfied.

Oliver was anything but.  Dropping the toy, which rolled onto the floor, he tore off his boxers then grasped her thighs with both hands and spread them.  He perched only momentarily at her entrance before plunging inside of her, filling her ways that no toy could and eliciting a gasping cry as she clutched at his back for some sort of anchor.  She wrapped her legs around him and clung to him as he fucked her, each thrust unravelling her.  _“Oliver,”_ she gasped out, and it wasn’t long before he came inside of her, a jumbled attempt at her name spilling from his own lips as they both trembled and fell apart in one another’s arms, until he collapsed, rolling them over so that she melted into his chest, both of them raggedly trying to catch their breath.

“Whose bright idea was it,” Felicity said when she could finally string words together, “to play Never Have I Ever anyway?”

Oliver grinned, kissing the top of her head and wrapping his arms around her.  “I can’t remember.  We were already drunk at that point.  But we should do it again tomorrow.”

“Being roommates is going to be more fun than I expected.” **  
**


	25. Dance Your Cares Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Fraggle Rock (random, I know, but it's what popped in my head when I saw your post)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg I had forgotten this show existed! I think it was slightly before my time, but I used to randomly catch reruns as a kid and it was AWESOME! Also, conveniently, I imagine it was definitely part of Oliver’s childhood.
> 
> To hear the Fraggle Rock theme song, just type that phrase into your YouTube search bar. It is one of the first items listed.

“I don’t know, Oliver! You try something!” Felicity said, and he suspected she would have thrown her hands in the air in aggravation if she weren’t dancing around the room with a screaming baby on her hip.

“Is there any more formula left? Do you think he’s still hungry?” Oliver asked frantically, coming over to place his hand on Andy Diggle Jr.’s forehead and make sure he still wasn’t feverish.

She shook her head. “I’ll check. Here, my arms are cramping. Take him, please?” she begged him, holding out the wailing baby. Anxiously, he accepted the little bundle, cringing when the screaming became louder—Andy generally preferred Felicity’s touch to Oliver’s.

“He probably just misses his parents,” Oliver tried to sound reassuring as Felicity swept from the nursery to go look for more formula in the kitchen. Oliver turned his attention to the distressed infant. “Hey, shh shh shhhh,” he said gently. “It’s okay, shhhhhh, please stop crying,” he begged the baby, starting to do the bobbing motion that Felicity was so adept at.

Downstairs, the microwave beeped as Felicity warmed up a bottle of food, even though she couldn’t imagine how the baby could possibly still be hungry at this point. Maybe Oliver was right. Maybe Andy just wanted his Mom and Dad.

And then something amazing happened: the microwave stopped and silence echoed throughout the room. She frowned. She couldn’t hear any crying from the second floor. Dashing upstairs she ran back into the nursery to find Oliver grinning as he did a little dance with Andy in his arms, singing quietly.

“Dance your cares away. Worry’s for another day. Let the music play…Down in Fraggle Rock!”

Shaking her head at him, Felicity folded her arms, grinning when he turned and caught sight of her, still singing the little tune quietly to a delighted and smiling Andy, whose eyes were now starting to droop.

Finally, he drifted off and Oliver stopped singing long enough to lower him back into his crib. Before Felicity could comment, he pushed her out of the room, softly closing the door behind him.

“Dance your cares away?” she whispered delightedly.

He shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “It was a Jim Henson show when I was a kid. I used to love it. I couldn’t think of anything else.”

She sighed. “Oliver Queen, you are amazing.”


	26. He Always Picks Up For Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Felicity drunk dialing Oliver at like 2 in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was possibly the most popular thing I have ever posted on Tumblr, which was a delightful surprise because I really liked it, too.
> 
> At some point, I will probably be persuaded (if not by others, then by myself) to continue it with a Part II. We'll see what happens.

he fact that Felicity had programmed his phone to play _She’s a Genius_ whenever she called him was something Oliver had never bothered to figure out how to change.  Though perhaps not the ringtone he would have chosen, ultimately it served the purpose of telling him without looking that she was calling.

And generally speaking, when Felicity called him instead of texting, it was important.  So when Oliver woke to the song start playing from his phone at 2:00 A.M. his heart was already pounding a little with anxiety.  Blindly he grabbed at the phone, fumbling for it until finally he was able to squint at the too-bright screen long enough to hit the answer button.  “Felicity?” he asked.  “Are you okay?”

A burst of giggles met him.  _“See?  I_ told _you he’d pick up for you.  He always takes your calls.  Hi, Ollie!”_ Sara’s voice greeted him from the other end and he relaxed slightly, though he stayed confused.  _“Say hi, Felicity!”_

 _“Sara!  Gimme my phone back!”_ came Felicity’s response.  _“I’m so sorry, Oliver!”_ she added loudly to be sure he heard.

“Um…guys?” Oliver asked, confused.

 _“Hi, Oliver!”_ came the addition of Roy’s voice in the background, and Oliver dropped his head to the pillow.  What were they doing?  It was _late_.

 _“Ollie, we were just talking about you.  You should really be here right now!”_ Sara teased.  _“Well…actually, Felicity was talking about you, we—hey!”_ There was a scuffling sound as Felicity was apparently attempting to reclaim her phone.  Oliver smiled into his pillow, chuckling quietly.

 _“Oliver?  Are you still there?—Sara, no!  Stop!”_ Felicity squealed, clearly attempting to hold the other blonde at bay.  _“Roy, would you please make yourself USEFUL!”_ the last word came out in a shriek and Oliver winced, holding the phone away from his ear and wondering what on earth the three of them were up to.

Roy must have come to her rescue, because Felicity was back in a moment.  _“Are you there?”_ she asked.

He grinned.  “Yeah, Felicity.  I’m here.  Are you drunk?”

 _“Possibly yes.”_ He could almost hear her nodding her head.  _“But I’m allowed to be because it’s my birthday.”_

He frowned.  “What?”

 _“Well, technically yesterday was my birthday.  Which you forgot.  But it’s okay!”_ she added hurriedly.  _“Because I don’t really celebrate my birthday normally, which is why you didn’t even really know that it happened, but then Roy found out and he told Sara and she decided we should make jell-O shots, but_ Oliver,” she said his name with emphasis.  _“You never warned me that Sara makes_ really strong _jell-O shots,”_ she scolded him, as though obviously this was all his fault.

Oliver was still frowning as he slowly pushed himself up in bed.  “Yesterday was your birthday?” he repeated.

_“Yes, Oliver, God, pay attention.  But anyway, Sara made jell-O shots and then Roy bet I couldn’t do as many as him and he’s a brat so obviously I had to prove him wrong and I won, for the record—which is impressive now that I think about it because Roy works for this bar and jeez he should really build up a little more tolerance.”_

“Um, Felicity…where are you, exactly?”

_“We’re at Verdant.  Sara said she didn’t think Thea would mind as long as we re-stock the bar tomorrow. WAIT SARA, NO!”_

Another scuffle had Oliver frowning at his phone until he heard Sara’s voice.  _“Ollie, you need to get your butt over here, you owe this birthday girl big time.  I can’t believe you didn’t know it was her birthday!”_ Sara accused light-heartedly.

Feeling a little bit like a heel, Oliver rubbed a hand over his face.  “Sara…would you just…keep her out of trouble, okay?  I’ll see you all in the morning.”

 _“In the morning?  Well, okay,”_ Sara sighed dramatically.  _“I guess we’ll have to go to Plan B if Felicity’s gonna get a birthday kiss.  ROY!  KISS FELICITY!”_

 _“What?  No!”_ Felicity squealed in the background while Oliver glowered.

_“Ew, no, Sara!  She’s like my sister, jeez!”_

_“Pfft.  Plan C, then.  Hey, Ollie, what was the name of that strip club that opened up with the chippendale dancers?”_

“Sara,” Oliver growled.

 _“Oh right!  The ‘Pony.’  HEY GUYS PACK IT IN WE’RE MOVING!”_ she yelled so that Oliver winced again.

“SARA WOULD YOU STAY PUT?  FINE, I’M COMING!”

 _“Thought so,”_ Sara’s voice was smug before she hung up the phone.

Irritably, Oliver got up and flipped the lights on, searching for a pair of jeans and grumbling about finding birthday presents at this hour and nobody giving anybody else a birthday kiss if he had anything to say about it.


	27. Good Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: How about Felicity thinking she is finally over Oliver, she's with Ray and then boom crazy!angry!sex with Oliver happens. Your writing is greattt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look. Another smut prompt that spiraled out of control
> 
> ETA: WARNING FOR DUBIOUS CONSENT—I've edited this from the original version to make it a little more reader friendly. The original version was never meant to suggest dubious or non-consent, but, well, sometimes my intention and what actually gets written don't go hand-in-hand. And that's *exactly* what rewrites are for.
> 
> That said, I will admit to a slight lack of quality control when it comes to my drabble collection. I post a lot of them in quick succession sometimes, and don't always spend a lot of time re-reading them. If there is ever ANYTHING that makes you uncomfortable in one of my stories, please talk to me about it. Consent in particular is an issue I take very seriously.

“That’s it, Oliver!  Are you happy?  Are you proud of yourself?  This was a complete waste of my time!”

“Felicity…Digg and Roy are out of town.  I needed back-up.”

“For a _car theft,_ Oliver?!” Felicity demanded irately, rising from her desk as he moved to put up his quiver and bow.  “And what about the breaking-and-entering last week?  Or the standard-issue bank heist the week before that?”

He looked up from the equipment to raise an eyebrow at her.  “There were hostages.”

“And _one gunman!_ You could have taken him out with both hands tied behind your back!  You didn’t need me!”

“What are you getting at?” he said dangerously, folding his arms and leveling her with a menacing look as he stepped closer to her.

“That _conveniently_ , every one of these lame emergencies has come up when I’ve had a date with Ray!  I’ve got news for you Oliver,” she announced, walking right up to him and refusing to be intimidated.  “I _like_ him.  He’s good and decent and handsome and employed and _nice_ , for the love of God!  Do you know how rare that is?” she demanded.  “And how much rarer it is that someone who exhibits all of those qualities is actually interested—and staying interested!—in _me_ of all people?  That almost never happens!  I like him, Oliver.  I like seeing him.  And whatever nonsense you’re trying to pull, it’s got to stop!  I will not let you sabotage this!”

“I’m not trying to sabotage you!  Paranoid much?  I’m sorry if you think what we do here is beneath you, Felicity, but—”

“You did not just say that!” Felicity interrupted incredulously.  “How _dare_ you imply that I don’t care about what we do down here!  I can’t believe you just said that,” she repeated, shaking her head and looking away.  “You have seriously got your head so far up your ass—”

“Well maybe I need you here, Felicity.  Has that occurred to you?  Maybe I need to be sure that if something does go wrong, someone’s got my back!”

“IT WAS A CAR THIEF!”

“AND YOU WERE LATE GETTING HERE!  What happens if something goes wrong?  What if I _do_ need you, Felicity!”

“But you _don’t,_ Oliver!” she groaned, staring at him like he was out of his mind.  “I need to have a life, but you?  You do _not_ need me!”

“Yes I do!” Oliver could feel his heart rate rising.  Didn’t she get it?  Didn’t she understand?

“God this is like arguing with a three-year-old!” she exclaimed, turning away to walk away from him.

His hand reached out for her arm and slid down to catch her fingertips, pulling her back around to face him and catching her in a searing kiss.  He didn’t know what made him do it.  All he knew was that he didn’t want her walking away.

Felicity made a muffled sound of protest before pushing him back.  “Damn it, Oliver!” she exclaimed.  “You do _not_ get to do this!  You do not get to just—just—!” she gave up and pulled him back into another kiss.  For a brief moment she reveled in the intoxicating sensation of his lips on hers before coming to her senses and pushing him back again.  “I can't do this,” she told herself emphatically.  “I like Ray, damn it!  I _really like him_.  Oliver didn't know who she was trying to convince.  Him or herself?

“You like him,” he repeated.  “And I _love_ you,” he argued before he could stop himself.

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“I’m not!”

“Yes you a—”  His lips cut her off again and she moaned.  She didn’t push him away this time, her resolve weakening, but she finally dropped her head back to tear her lips away and whined, “You can’t do this, Oliver.  You can’t mess with my head like this!  It’s not fair!  I _do_ like Ray.  I’m serious about him!”

Frustrated, Oliver spun her around and pushed her against the wall, one hand cupping her face to tilt it forward so he could kiss her again, his lips molding hungrily to hers as he pressed into her.  He pulled back slightly, leaving her with nothing but a whimper on her lips.  “You like him,” he repeated.  “But who do you love?”

“I—I—” she stammered, even as her hands found his chest, fisting in his shirt to keep him close.  “I…like Ray.”

He kissed her again.

 _“Ray,”_ she insisted.

Again.

She groaned, hands wrapping around his neck hungrily, fingers digging into his shoulders.  _“Oliver,”_ she sighed and triumph surged through him at the sound of his name.  He dropped his hands to her shoulders and slid them along her arms before firmly grabbing her hips and deepening the kiss.  She moaned in response, hips bucking against him in frustration before she bit his lower lip.  Gently, but just hard enough to have him drawing back with something that most distinctly resembled a growl.  “You’re a jerk,” she said angrily.  “You _have_ been sabotaging my dates.”

“I don’t want you to see him.”  His hand was sliding lower from her hip, along the skirt of the dress…one that she had chosen for a date with Ray Palmer—a thought which had him itching to tear it off of her.  Instead, he reached the hem and slipped his hand beneath it, stroking the smooth expanse of her thigh and causing her to shiver.

“You don’t get to dictate who I see.”

“You shouldn’t date him if you’re not in love with him.”  His hand reached the hem of her underwear and his eyes narrowed.  It was lace.  The kind of undergarment you want someone to see.

“How am I supposed to fall in love if I never get the chance to go out with anyone, Oliver?” she demanded, suppressing a shudder as his thumb slipped under the band.  “You are making it impossible for me!”

Meeting her eyes, Oliver tightened the grip he still had on her hip and slid his wandering hand between her thighs, palming her core and watching her head fall back as her lips parted in a wanton moan.  Her fingers dug deeper into the leather covering his shoulders and the moan changed to a noise of frustration.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” she ground out as his hand pressed harder against her core and a wonderful ache shot through her.  Why did he have to feel so damned _good?_   “You don’t want me for yourself, Oliver, but you don’t want anyone else to have me, either!”

Oliver leaned in close so that their faces were a breath apart.  “You got it,” he said and she sputtered in fury at his unabashed response.

“I—You—ugh!”  She closed the distance between them and kissed him again, groaning into his mouth desperately as his hand stroked her and all of a sudden he slipped her panties to the side, slipping a finger along her pussy and finding it dripping.

“Already so wet, Felicity?” he teased her smugly, his lips forming an intolerable smirk against hers.

What was she supposed to say?  That he was turning her on with his stupid, territorial display?  “Maybe there’s a _reason_ I was late getting here.  It might have been interrupted, but my date with Ray was going well before _you_ called.” 

Something in Oliver’s chest roared with rage at what she was implying.  In a moment of swift fury, he shredded her panties and wrapped her thighs around his waist, grinding into her as she cried out in response.  “Too bad,” he growled, “he’s not enough for you.”

Even as she tightened her arms around him, she still leaned forward to brush her lips against his ear, unable to resist provoking him just a little more.  “Who says he’s not?”

Oliver turned to look at her.  “If he were, you wouldn’t be here now.”  He kissed her again, shifting her weight against the wall so he could reach down an undo his leather pants, freeing his erection.  “No one made you come here, not even me.”

Felicity shuddered, feeling his hardened length sliding along her slit, and she dropped her face into his neck.

“Promise,” he said, breath hot against her hair.  “Promise you won’t see him.”

“I can’t do that, Oliver.  I can’t give up having a life just because you’re jealous…oh, _God_ , Oliver, please!” she begged him, arching into him in an attempt to coax him to enter her.

“God– _damn it, Felicity!”_ he snarled, thrusting into her in one solid push.  She cried out loudly, the sound muffled into his neck as he gasped for air, eyes falling closed.  “I told you,” he said, pulling back and thrusting into her, “I love you.  What do I have to do?”

“Just shut up, Oliver!” she groaned, dropping her head back against the wall.

Oliver obeyed, occupying his mouth instead by claiming hers as he pounded into her, willing her to understand that just because now wasn’t the right time for them, didn’t mean there never would be a right time.  One day…one day he would hang up the bow, and he could finally be with her.

But he couldn’t be with her, he thought as she came undone around him, if she ended up married to some guy like Ray Palmer, who might be ‘good enough’ by her criteria, but would never meet Oliver’s standards for the man who had a right to end up with Felicity Smoak.


	28. Room For Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Oliver is looking for a new place to live and Felicity is helping him, the lady showing them the apartment turns out to be one of Oliver one night stand before the island who was obsessed with him, so he pretend Felicity is his wife, maybe some kissing...

“Felicity Smoak?” a female voice—a strangely familiar female voice—asked upon entering the apartment, and the blood drained from Oliver's face when he saw the realtor with her gaze turned down to a clipboard.  She looked up then.  And her mouth fell open.  “Ollie!” she exclaimed.  “Oh my _God_ , how are you?” she asked, crossing the room toward him and looking delighted.

Felicity looked at them both, confused.

“I didn’t know you were the client.  Did I get the names mixed up?” the woman asked anxiously, flipping through the paperwork desperately.  “I was _sure_ it was a woman.”

“Uh, yeah.  Hi.  Felicity,” Felicity attempted to draw some—any—attention to herself, while trying to figure out what the odd expression passing over Oliver’s face meant.  Or why he was suddenly gripping her arm very tightly.  _“Ow,”_ she muttered to him, but his grip didn’t loosen.

The woman finally noticed her.  She was still standing very much in Oliver’s personal space.  “Oh.  I see.  And…you are?”

“I’m—”

“She’s my wife!” Oliver announced, causing both Felicity and the realtor’s eyes to snap to him in shock.  Oliver wrapped an arm around Felicity, squeezing her into his side.  “Mrs. Queen.  That’s Felicity.”

“Your _wife?”_ the realtor said in a strained, high-pitched voice, and the pencil she’d been coquettishly toying with in her fingers suddenly snapped in half by mistake.

Felicity stared at Oliver.  The realtor stared at him.  Felicity turned to stare at the realtor.

“I take it you two—”

“Know each other?” the realtor said.

“Delia is—”

“His ex.”

“—an old friend.”

 _“Friend?”_ she echoed incredulously, eyebrows shooting through the roof.

“Former…um…”

“Lover,” she supplied dourly.

“Er…yeah.  Delia stalked me for most of 2005.”

“Stalked you?  Excuse me!?”

“You camped out in my lawn—”

“So tell me, Ollie,” Delia ground out, looking at the clipboard again.  “If this woman is your wife, why is she listed as ‘Felicity _Smoak_ ’ on my paperwork?”

“It’s Felicity Smoak-Queen, actually,” Felicity finally came to Oliver’s rescue and actually felt his physical relief beside her.  She straightened her glasses and placed her arm around his waist.  “I made the appointment right before we eloped, and I’m still having trouble breaking the habit of signing my name the new way.”

“Elopement?”

“Yeah, well, CEO marries his Executive Assistant…not exactly something I felt like having all over the media.  So we’ve been keeping it pretty quiet.  But listen, we were here to look at apartments, right?  Time’s a-tickin’,” she joked pleasantly.

“Right,” Delia said, suddenly appearing to remember that she was, in fact, there on business.  “Well.  This particular unit fits everything you asked for.  Open floor plan.  Large windows.  Fire escape.  High-grade security system.  Large,” she ground out, _“bedroom.”_

Felicity blushed, embarrassed, and glanced at Oliver, whose face was red as well, although he had to give her credit.  She’d thought of everything.  “You owe me big time,” Felicity whispered to him at one point when she was sure Delia wasn’t listening, instead showing them the window that opened onto a fire escape.

Oliver gave her a sheepish look before Delia rounded on them.

“So, what do you think?” she asked, smiling through her teeth.  She obviously was ignoring Felicity’s presence altogether and looking only at Oliver.  “Great for two people.  Or one.  If things, you know, don’t work out.”

“Um, hi.  Standing right here,” Felicity waved her hand slightly.

Delia shrugged.  “Sorry, dear, but you know how these things are.  Divorce rates higher than ever and all.  I hope you had her sign a prenup, Ollie,” she added to him.  “Wouldn’t want anything tragic to happen.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that, Delia,” Oliver said genially.  “If Felicity ever packs up and leaves, she’ll be getting all that matters anyway.  She’s got my heart for life.”  Felicity almost gagged at the sappy statement.  But then he followed it up with swift, fervent kiss to the lips, and suddenly she felt her face growing very hot, trying to cover her surprise at the action.  Oliver smirked at her expression, licking his lips and meeting her eyes deviously.

Delia’s mouth pursed.  “Right.  Well.  Like I said.  The place is versatile.  But there’s a few more options if you’d like to see them.”

“Oh, I think we’re good.  We—”

“We’re seeing them all,” Felicity said firmly.  She had spent way too much time researching places for them to stop after the first one just because Oliver had run into some crazy ex.

“Great,” Delia said with a strained smile.  “Well.  As you said.  Time’s ticking.  But I’ll give you a moment to discuss this place.  You can meet me downstairs.”  She fled the room.

“Your _wife_?” Felicity rounded on Oliver.

He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.  “Umm…yeah, sorry.  Like I said.  She stalked me for most of 2005.  I panicked.”

Felicity just laughed.  “Oh, don’t worry, Mr. Queen.  I’ll play along.  But you owe me dinner.  Now come on,” she sighed.  She grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the door.  “We are finding you the right apartment today if it kills me.”

Oliver grinned.  “Great.  So…by the way, you made us newlyweds.”

“And?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

His expression was devious.  “Newlyweds are hands-y.”  He winked and Felicity blushed from the tips of her ears right down to her toes as Oliver suddenly took the lead.  “And I’ll be expecting a little more effort on your part for the next kiss.”

“Next…?  You know maybe we should stick with this place!” Felicity said as he tugged her out the door.  “It’s nice!”


	29. Smitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: I was wondering if you could write a fic about Oliver, Felicity, and the rest of the Arrow team meeting Superman and Felicity crushing on Clark or something along those lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi I LOVE Superman, so this was extremely fun to write. I can easily picture Felicity swooning over Superman.

“Dude, are you seeing this?” Roy asked.

“He…actually does fly.  I wouldn’t have believed it if I weren’t seeing it for myself,” Digg added.

Oliver just glowered, watching the man dressed in red and blue carry a fuchsia clad figure in their directions.  He watched as Superman set Felicity gently on her feet, but she didn’t loosen her arms from around his neck.

Superman looked at her and smiled, but she didn’t seem to have noticed that she was on solid ground yet.  “Are…you okay?” he prompted.

“Mmmmhmmmm…” she said, staring at him.  “Wow.  That was…okay that was really great.  I’m still holding onto you.  Sorry.  I can’t seem to move.”

Grinning, he gently removed her hands from around his neck, and Oliver’s eyes narrowed, following the lingering touches from both parties.

“Thank you,” Felicity said.

“Yeah, thanks,” Roy cut in.  “I’ll never forget seeing her fall like that…” he shook his head.  “Never would have forgiven myself.  We owe you…I owe you…big time.”

Superman smiled, shaking the hand Roy offered.  “It was my pleasure.  And I appreciated the help, too,” he added sincerely, turning to Oliver, who appeared a little more calm now that Felicity had let go of Superman, but no happier about the love-sick expression on her face.

“Well,” Diggle said, eyeing Oliver and feeling it wasn’t in anyone’s best interest to let him talk at the moment, “if there’s ever anything we can do for you…you know where to find us.”

“Uh huh…” Felicity seconded the statement, nodding, her eyes not wavering from Superman, who was giving her a shy grin.

“We should go,” Roy said suddenly, cottoning on when Diggle elbowed him for help.

“Yup,” Oliver said tightly, grabbing Felicity’s hand.  “Time to go.”

“Okay,” she agreed.  But she tugged away from Oliver briefly to plant a kiss on Superman’s cheek.  Blushing furiously, she told him sincerely, “Thank you.  Really.  For saving me.  And…for the ride,” she grinned and he beamed at her.

“Any time.”

Still smiling mushily, Felicity turned to Oliver and started walking in the direction of the car.  “Okay,” she announced simply.  “I’m ready now.”

They started to walk away, Oliver placing a protective hand on the small of Felicity’s back as they did so, but there was a light gust of wind that had Felicity craning to look over her shoulder as Oliver guided her away.  To her surprise, Superman had already vanished.  But, a moment later, she saw a man in a suit appear from a nearby alley, his shoulders hunched forward and his glasses sliding off the end of his nose.  He used a finger to push them back into place, and, for a moment, looked up and caught Felicity’s eye, and she recognized him.  His lips attempting to suppress a smile, he winked at her, and her heart skipped a wink as she mouthed the word “Bye,” to him.

Turning back to step into the car, Felicity couldn’t help commenting, “He was really amazing,” as she slid into the car while Oliver held open the door for her.

Roy sniggered.  “Oliver, your girlfriend’s got a crush on the BoyScout,” he teased.

“Actually,” Diggle chuckled as Roy ducked out of the way of a smack to the back of the head from Oliver, “I think he was a little smitten with her, too.”

Oliver rolled his eyes.  “She’s not my girlfriend,” he informed Roy, ignoring Digg, who climbed into the car next.

Oliver glanced in the direction that Clark Kent had recently stood.  He narrowed his eyes.  “And he can have her over my dead body,” he added under his breath.  He might owe Superman for rescuing her, but there were some things he wasn’t willing to give up.


	30. The Man Who Called Her Babydoll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two prompts requesting a fic about Felicity's father, one where Oliver notices someone following her, and another with her dad not being what you would expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is very angsty, so if you're looking for fluff, move right along.

“Oliver, what are you doing?”

“I’m…walking you to your car?”

“Yes, but why?”

Because yesterday he’d noticed a strange man following her home, and said strange man had been hanging around outside of the QC building all day, but he wasn’t sure it was the same person yet and didn’t want to make her paranoid.  “Er…no reason?”

Felicity’s eyebrow arched at him.  “You’ve been acting strangely lately, you know that?”

“Have I?” he asked, distracted as he searched the parking garage.

“Uh huh.  Well.  We’re here.  Bye.”

“Sure, sure, bye Felicity,” he said, still not fully paying attention to her.  Felicity rolled her eyes and unlocked her car, sliding into the driver’s seat.  When Oliver heard the engine come to live it snapped him back to the present and he stepped back.  “Bye,” he said again.  “See you later tonight?”

She smiled, still giving him a scrutinizing look, and nodded.

He watched her car go, before immediately heading for his bike.

* * *

Sure enough, Oliver spotted the strange, older man hopping into a cab that ended up going the same direction as Felicity’s car.  Oliver took off down the road after them, following from a discreet distance.  Thanks to traffic, he eventually lost his tail on the cab, so instead he headed directly to Felicity’s house.

He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary at first, so after a couple of drive-bys he parked the bike and perched on a nearby rooftop, hoping to lull the man out into the open by giving the illusion that no one was around.  He saw the lights already flipped on in Felicity’s living room, and tried not to stare at her silhouette as she apparently lit a few candles and opened a bottle of wine before settling on her couch.

That was when Oliver spotted him.  The old man was watching her through the window.  Oliver dropped down and snuck up on the man, grabbing him by the back of his collar, ignoring the yelp of terror he released, and demanding with a snarl, “What are you doing here?  What do you want with Felicity?”

“I…who are you?  I didn’t mean any harm, I swear!  Are you a cop?”

“I’m much worse than a cop.”

“Oh, jeezus, you’re a fed,” the man squawked, struggling to get free of

Oliver, who pinned him a foot off the ground against the trunk of a tree.  He reeked of alcohol and was clearly weak, no one dangerous.

“Why are you following her?” he growled.

“I wasn’t…I…I just…I…”

“Spit it out!  What do you want with her?”

Light spilled onto them as the front door of Felicity’s house swung open and within moments of recognizing Oliver, she was descending the steps barefoot and stepping onto her already dewy lawn.  “What’s going on out here?” she demanded.

“Stay back, Felicity!” Oliver said, holding up a hand to ward her off.  “Why are you following her?” he repeated to the old man, who was now looking at Felicity with an unnamable expression on his face.

Felicity’s hand flew to her mouth in recognition, tears suddenly pricking at her eyes.  “Oh my God…Dad?”

Oliver dropped the man in surprise, staring at Felicity.  “Dad?” he repeated.

“Oh my God, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING HERE?” Felicity shouted and Oliver blanched.  He’d never heard her switch from normal volume to her loud voice so quickly.  Her father was cowering, sobbing something indecipherable.  Felicity marched toward him and Oliver suddenly found himself holding her back as she screamed at the man who was apparently her father.  “NO!  I HAVE A RESTRAINING ORDER!  YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED ANYWHERE NEAR ME!  THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”

“Babydoll, I just wanted to see you,” the drunk was blubbering.  “I just wanted to know how you were.  I love you, babydoll, you know that.”

Felicity struggled fruitlessly to break free of Olvier’s arms.  “You do not get to say that!  You forfeit your right to see me the last time you beat up mom!” she spat venomously, and her father cringed in remorse.

“I’m better now, babydoll.  I’m better, I promise.  I got help.  I love you, you know I do.  I just missed you.”

Oliver was looking between the pair in horror.  Before he could say anything to intervene, Felicity tore in with another cutting attack.  “BETTER?” she echoed wildly.  “BETTER?  Oh, yeah, your sister-in-law told me all about how you traded in hitting innocent women and children for drinking, you bastard!  Get out of here!  Get out of here, I’m—Oliver, let me go, damn it!—I’m calling the cops!”

Oliver looked at the pathetic, cowering man and told him firmly, “I think you’d better go.”

“Babydoll, I just need…I just need a little money…a little cash for the cab home.  That’s it, I promise.  That’s—”

“HOW DARE YOU ASK ME FOR MONEY?  HOW DARE YOU!”

“Leave,” Oliver ground out, menacingly before the man finally took off.

“AND GOOD RIDDANCE!” Felicity shrieked after him.  “GOOD RIDDANCE, YOU LOW-LIFE, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING DRUNK!”

Her flailing became weaker as she collapsed into Oliver’s arms, her shouts turning into sobs.  Heart pounding from the astonishing experience, Oliver scooped her up and carried her back into the house, smoothing back her hair and placing a kiss on top of her head as he hushed her, her body trembling with shock.

“Okay,” he said quietly.  “Okay.”  He laid her down on the couch and immediately vanished to contact Diggle and Officer Lance to explain the situation, and that under no circumstances was this man to come anywhere near Felicity.

He returned to find Felicity sitting up with her knees drawn into her chest, hugging them tightly.  “I haven’t seen him in 8 years,” she informed Oliver in a deadpan.

He wasn’t sure what to say.

“He was watching me outside my house?” she asked, not looking at him.

“I…yeah, I’m sorry.  I…Felicity, I had no idea.”

“That,” she said flatly, “is because I didn’t tell you.  I don’t tell anyone about him.  He was abusive and an angry drunk.  He abandoned us, and then he came back and my mom let him.  He abused her some more until I stepped in.  And now he’s just a drunk.  He loves us…in some weird fucked up corner of his mind.  He actually does love us.  He’s just a low-life bastard.”

Oliver listened quietly, let her explain whatever she felt she needed to.

“Thank you,” she said, abruptly looking up at him, “you knew he was following me.  Thank you for looking out for me,” she said.

Oliver was by her side instantly, crouching down beside her and pulling her into his arms.  “Hey,” he said gently.  “I would never, _never_ let anyone hurt you, okay?  I already spoke to Lance.  He’s gonna make sure your dad’s taken in.  If he’s really violating a restraining order, then there’ll be no problem getting him locked up for the night.  I’ll take care of everything.”  
She nodded into his neck.  “Thank you,” she whispered, squeezing him tightly.

His throat thick with emotion, Oliver didn’t know what to say, so he just pressed a kiss to her temple.


	31. Cramped Quarters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Oliver and Felicity closed in a wardrobe, reeeally tight, maybe hiding from someone, and it becomes awkward when they try to move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! It’s my very own mop-closet-trope-fic! I’ve never had one of these before!

“This is the stupidest situation you’ve ever gotten me into,” Felicity huffed in lowered tones, trying not to speak too loudly.

Oliver would have pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration…if he had room to lift his arm.  “I fail to see how this is my fault.”

“You picked this hiding place!” she accused.

“Picked it?  If by ‘picked it’ you mean I hauled ass and locked us both behind the first door I saw, then yes, I can see why you would think this is my fault.”

Felicity glared at him, trying to suck in what little of her there was to suck in so as not to take up any more space in the water closet than necessary.  “No one appreciates your sarcasm, Oliver.”

“On the contrary, I deeply appreciate my sarcasm,” he informed her.

“Har har.  Oliver Queen finally cracks a joke.  Hilarious.”  She rolled her eyes.

“Listen, the security guard is probably gone by now, I just need to check,” he told her.

“Great, can you reach the door?” she asked.

Oliver shifted uncomfortably, trying to reach around her to get to the doorknob, but instead he just ended up knocking her off-balance so that she had to grab onto his jacket to keep from getting sending them both crashing into the shelves of cleaning supplies behind Oliver.

“Oof!  Watch it!” she hissed.  She grunted.  “This is no use.  Here, just let me turn so I can—” she twisted awkwardly, her body rubbing against his in some rather unfortunate places.

“Felicity…” he said in a strained voice as she attempted to raise one arm over her head to allow enough room for her to continue turning to reach the door.

“What?”

“Stop.”

“Why?”

“Just…stop,” he said, hand grabbing her hip to pause her movements.  “Okay,” he said as she automatically shifted back into their original position: chest-to-chest with her back to the door.  “Let’s just…turn at the same time, and then I can reach the doorknob when we’re sideways, crack it open, and make sure the coast is clear.

She nodded.  “Got it.”  Only at the moment her arm was still raised awkwardly from her earlier attempt, and her glasses were sliding off her nose from losing her balance earlier and this was all just really uncomfortable and why was Oliver breathing so hard darn it?

She lowered her arm to his shoulder—the only convenient resting place—as they slowly shuffled clockwise until Oliver could reach the door handle.

“Whoever packed the supplies into this closet really did a horrible job.  I mean, how would you even get to anything in some of those boxes?  This is all just a headache waiting to happen for their cleaning staff.  I mean, really, the only thing this room is suitable for is a very restricted version of seven minutes in heaven at this point, which, by the way, I haven’t played since the seventh grade, which is why Tony Bryant became obsessed with me, but that’s a completely—”

“Felicity!” Oliver cut her off.

She flattened her lips into a line to stop the flow of words while Oliver gently turned the door handle, leaning forward and into her, just enough to peer through the crack in the door.  Felicity sucked in a breath as she was overwhelmed with the scent of leather and cedar wood, and the hard planes of his chest came into contact with the decidedly not hard planes of hers.

Oliver’s eyes widened and he promptly shut the door again, trying to be as silent as possible.

“Not.  Gone,” he said through gritted teeth.  “Felicity, can you _please_ stop breathing so hard, it’s—”

“Me?  You’re the one who’s all up in my space!” she accused.  “How long do you think they’ll be out there?” she moaned.

Oliver shook his head.  They really shouldn’t even be talking, to be frank.  Not that he was having an easy time string two words together with Felicity pressed so closely against him.

“Oh no.”

“What?” Oliver asked warily.

“I have to sneeze.”

“WHAT?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it!  My nose just itches, and I—I—ah—” she scrunched up her face, wriggling her nose as she tried to reach to cover her mouth so she wouldn’t end up sneezing right at him.

“Felicity, so help me—” but it was no use.  He wrapped his arm around her lower back and crushed her into his left side, freeing her left arm just enough that she was able to bring it up to cover her face—and the sneeze—at the last second.

Which, unfortunately, didn’t restrain the way her body temporarily threw itself against his with the momentary force of the sneeze.

Oliver groaned.  “I hate you.”

“Why?  I covered my mouth.”

Oliver glared at her.

“That was not my fault and you know it.”

All Oliver knew was he could understand why Tony Bryant would become obsessed with Felicity after being locked in a closet with her for seven minutes.


	32. Rescue Me, Take Me in Your Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Felicity saves Oliver from an ex at a gala! Love your work by the way!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A classic, and always fun to write, plus: bonus Thea! Also, interestingly, I was watching Pushing Daisies while writing this, which may or may not have affected my writing style.

“Poor Ollie,” Thea sighed, coming to join Felicity by the open bar and helping herself to a glass of champagne.

Felicity raised an eyebrow.  “What do you mean?  He looks pretty happy to me,” she said flatly.

The two women glanced at Oliver, who was exactly as he had been for the last half hour: waltzing with one, Amara Willows: exceptionally beautiful socialite in an exceptionally beautiful designer gown.

“You’re kidding, right?  Oh come on, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed he’s wearing his press smile,” Thea pointed out.

Felicity, who had been very determinedly trying _not_ to look too closely at Oliver or Amara and her perfect cheekbones and manicure, took a moment to do so now.  To her surprise, Thea was right.  Now that she actually allowed herself to look at his face, she realized the obvious: Oliver was forcing a smile, and not doing it very well, either.  “Eyugh,” she made a face.  “Think she’s that bad?” she asked, referring to Amara.

Thea laughed.  “Uh, _yeah_.  Didn’t you know?  She and Ollie used to date.”

Felicity coughed a little on her wine.  “She…they what?”

“You know how Ollie and Laurel were always on-again-off-again pre-island?  Meet one of the many off-agains.”

“Ah.”

“She was a piece of work.  Total bitch and major head-case.  I tried to rescue him earlier, but she’s got her claws in deep tonight,” Thea chuckled.  “Looks like he’s just gonna have to suffer.  So by the way, how come _you’re n_ ot dancing, missy?  I’ve seen plenty of guys looking like they’d love to take you for a spin,” she teased.

Felicity blushed.  “I…oh, no reason.”  The truth?  The only partner she’d been hoping to dance with had been occupied with someone else all night.

“Well then I insist you see if you can’t disentangle those two.  That dress you’re wearing is way too hot _not_ to get a spin on the dance floor,” Thea declared.

“What?” Felicity sputtered, “Wait, what happened to letting him suffer?”

“If you’re not going to take advantage of any of the multitude of hotties checking you out, then you really have no excuse not to go dance with my brother instead.  C’mon, look how pitiful he looks.  He’s practically _begging_ us to help him.”

Felicity glanced at Oliver again.  He was radiating misery while Amara’s mouth was running at 80 miles an hour.  She cringed vicariously.  “Yeah, okay, twist my arm,” she sighed, giving in.  

“Great!” Thea said.  “What do we do?”

Chewing the inside of her cheek, the wheels in Felicity’s head turned momentarily until finally clicking into place.  “I’ve got an idea.  But I need your help.  Just…wait for the signal, okay?” Felicity winked.

“What’s the signal?”

“Oh…you’ll know it,” Felicity smirked, heading into the crowd of twirling bodies.

She acted as though she were simply crossing to the other side of the room, but carefully allowed herself to be ‘bumped into’ at the exact right moment to ‘accidentally’ spill her wine.  All over Amara Willows’ designer dress.

“OH MY GOD!” Amara exclaimed.  “You little bitch, what were you doing?”

“I’m so sorry,” Felicity feigned.

“It was just an accident, Amara,” Oliver pointed out, giving Felicity a sidelong look out of the corner of his eye.  “She didn’t mean anything by it.”

“This is _silk_ , Ollie!  It’s never going to be the same again!”

“Oh, Amara, you poor thing!” Thea said, appearing at exactly the right moment.  “Here, honey, let me help you get cleaned up,” she put an arm around Amara, smoothly relieving Felicity of the empty wine glass as well.

“But…Ollie—”

“Don’t be silly, Amara,” Thea said, firmly steering Amara away from the crowd.  “Ollie can’t go into the ladies’ room.  Now come on, we don’t want that stain to set.  I mean, this is _silk_ , after all.”

The corners of Oliver’s mouth twitched upward, betraying his amusement as he looked at a very proud, wine-less Felicity Smoak.  Gladly exchanging his previous partner for this new one, Oliver gracefully pulled Felicity into his arms and swept her along to the music.

“Very smooth,” Oliver grinned at her.  “My hero.”

“Well, I would have stepped in sooner but I didn’t know you needed help.  You should send up smoke signals next time,” she gave him a modest grin.

 _Or just ask you to dance right away before I miss my chance,_ Oliver thought to himself.  He’d almost asked her but lost his nerve, and the next thing he knew he’d been shanghaied by Amara and unable to get away.  He felt like his face muscles were worn out from forcing a polite smile.  “I guess I owe you for the heroics, don’t I?” he suggested, leaning forward to speak into her ear.  “Think of anything you might want in exchange?” he asked.

Flushing in surprise, Felicity almost stumbled, but ever the good partner, Oliver supported her through it, returning her to her balance easily. 

“I…um…the dance is good.”

 But Oliver shook his head.  “Nope, the dance is for me,” he winked.  “How about a kiss?”

“A…what?” Felicity chirped nervously.

He smirked.  “A kiss,” he repeated.  “To say thanks.”

“You just did, though.”

Oliver was not to be deterred.  “Well then, I might have to ask you to kiss me as a favor,” he said, changing tactics.  “Amara’s coming back.  I don’t want her to think you’re just saving her spot.”

“Wait, what?” Felicity said, starting to turn her head to look behind her, where she would have found that Amara Willows was nowhere to be seen, if Oliver hadn’t leaned in and kissed her before she had the chance.  “Oh,” she said, or would have said, if Oliver’s lips weren’t gently covering hers, muffling the sound.  “Oh,” she said again when he pulled back, and she felt her lips tingling in reaction.

His mouth quirked slightly.  “Good ‘oh’ or bad ‘oh?’”

She was still staring at his lips in confusion.

“Got it.  Try that one more time so I can be sure ‘oh,’” he grinned, lifting his hand to tip her chin upward so he could kiss her again.


	33. The Do-Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Felicity meets Oliver right before he goes on the Queens Gambit and scolds him for trying to be a prick while hitting on her. Include the line, "DO I LOOK LIKE A HOOKER TO YOU?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehehehe I thought of so many different ways to use this line, but ultimately, I like where this one ended up.

“Excuse me, I—Oh!  Mr. Queen!  I’m really sorry,” Felicity said, realizing just who she’d knocked into as her coffee spilled to the sidewalk.  “Shoot,” she murmured, checking her dress to make sure it hadn’t gotten on her clothes.

Oliver grinned a charming, arrogant smile.  “Mr. Queen is my father.  Call me Ollie.”

Felicity pressed her lips together.  “Um, sure.  Well, bye!” she said, starting to walk around him.

He stepped in her path, stopping her.  “Where are you headed, beautiful?”

She gave him a dry look.  “To work.  For your father, actually.  And I’m running late.”

“Would you like a ride?” he asked, indicating his car, parked by the curb and, she noticed, directly in front of a fire hydrant.

She shook her head adamantly.  “No, that’s okay!  Thank you.”  She again tried to walk around him, this time to the left, and he again blocked her way.  “Do you mind?” she huffed impatiently.

“Well, yeah,” he said, “why not take the ride?  I’ll get you there faster than you’d be on foot.”

“Actually, in this traffic, I doubt that.  And I have a sneaking suspicion that if I take a ride from you, I won’t actually end up at work.”  She quirked an eyebrow at him judiciously.  Oliver Queen was painfully handsome, there was no denying that.  But she’d work at Queen Industries long enough to know his reputation and that it wasn’t anything she personally wanted to get involved with.  Besides, she also happened to know that he was _supposed_ to have a girlfriend…some law student he went to school with, and the very fact that he was standing in front of her, flirting with her, did nothing to recommend him.

“You’re never late if you’re with the boss’s son,” he suggested, tempting her.

Felicity’s lips parted in surprise as he stepped closer.  It wasn’t a threatening motion, just a…seductive one.  She blinked for a second.  “I…um, no that’s fine.  But thank you.  I’m sure you have better things to be doing.”  _Like seeing your girlfriend!_ she thought irritably, making a third and final move to side-step him, feigning right and then slipping by him on the left with ease.

He grabbed her arm, “Wait.  I’ve offended you.  I don’t know _how_ exactly—” God, he was enjoying this!  What was wrong with this sleeze? “—but I’ve clearly upset you.  Now I really can’t let you go.  Please, let me give you a ride.  Or buy you a new cup of coffee!” he suggested, glancing at the empty cup in her hand.

She narrowed her eyes at him.  “I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine.  You haven’t offended me.  I just think you shouldn’t bother.  I’m sure you have places to be.  I think I heard you and your father are leaving for a cruise tomorrow?” she asked, suddenly remembering Mr. Queen stopping by the tech department for some help with an electronic navigation system for his yacht.  You probably have lots to do to prepare for that,” she said dryly, turning away from him.  

To her irritation, he didn’t let it go, instead jogging to keep up with her.  A very small, tiny part of her was flattered that he was that interested in her, but she also figured he wasn’t used to being faced with a challenge.  The trouble was she wasn’t playing hard to get.  She just wanted to go to work.  
“Actually,” he said conversationally.  “It’s pretty cut and dry.  Bag’s packed.  Show up at the docks tomorrow.  The question is,” he said flirtatiously, “how to spend the time between now and then,” he winked and she flushed.

“Oh my God, okay, you must have me confused with someone else,” she said.  “Like your girlfriend.”

“It’s an open relationship.”

“Does she know that?” she asked, feeling her temper starting to flare from irritation.

“What do I have to do to convince you?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said.  “I’m not convince-able.”

“Oh come on, we’ll do whatever you like,” he said.  “Everyone has a price.”

She stopped in her tracks.  _“Excuse me?”_

“I meant—”

“DO I LOOK LIKE A HOOKER TO YOU?  Jeez, you arrogant prick!”  She suddenly deeply regretted that she no longer had any coffee to throw at him.

“No, no,” Oliver back tracked, honestly surprised by this reaction.  “I just meant that there had to be something that would tempt you, I didn’t mean—”

“I know exactly what you meant,” she said curtly.  “And I hope your girlfriend knows just what a jackass you are, Mr. Queen.”  She gave him a look of disgust before storming off, finally shaking free of him.

“I SAID TO CALL ME OLLIE!” He called after her, cupping his hand around his mouth.  He smirked in satisfaction when he saw her pause mid-step, shoulders tensing before she carried on.

Later that week, Felicity was in shock, staring at the TV screen in the lobby of Queen Consolidated.  People were slowly gathering around her, everyone tuning in to see the report of the Queen’s Gambit being lost at sea.  People were pitying Mrs. Queen, wondering aloud what would happen to the company, and openly commenting on how awful it was that Oliver Queen should die so young.

Felicity thought she was going to faint.  Images of that young, carefree face were swimming to the front of her mind.  He’d been about to die, and the one time she’d met him, she’d been a bitch.  The last thing she’d said to him, she distinctly remembered, was that he was a jackass.

She dashed to the restroom to vomit into a toilet.

Years later, when Oliver resurfaced, she remembered noticing on television that he seemed different.  He was nothing, she determined, like the man she had met that day in front of the coffee shop.  She was surprised everyone else around her seemed to still think he was the same old Playboy who’d fallen overboard.

So when he’d walked into her office one day, she hadn’t know what to expect, not really.  All she knew was it wasn’t going to be the same person who was hitting on her that day.  He didn’t remember her, that was evident.  But that was okay, because she felt like she was meeting him for the first time, too.  A do-over, if you will.  It was her chance to be nice, and she wasn’t going to mess it up, not even when he dropped a completely absurd story about a laptop and a latte on her.  She agreed to help him, and sat back in her seat thoughtfully when he left.  _Mr. Queen was my father,_ he’d said both times she met him, but this time, he’d asked her to call him Oliver, not Ollie.

“Nice to meet you, Oliver,” she said thoughtfully.


	34. Don't Wait Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Bruce Wayne and Felicity Smoak have an arrangement where they "get together" *wink wink* when they see each other. (They're long time friends) Now go work your magic. Please?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -waves magic wand- 
> 
> -fic does not appear- 
> 
> -sighs and sits down to start typing instead-

“Oh good, you’re back.  I thought I was going to have to leave a note.”

“I—you what?” Oliver asked, frowning in confusion.  He’d returned to the multiple-bedroom suite he was sharing with Felicity in Gotham in hopes of asking if she’d like to go out and see some of the city as long as they were there.  He hadn’t expected to see her decked out in a midnight blue mini-dress and high heels, her hair curled and her lipstick very much in place for a night out already.

“I’m meeting Bruce for drinks,” she explained, trying not to blush as she attempted to sound casual.

“Bruce?” Oliver repeated, watching her put in a pair of earrings, using a decorative mirror to see her reflection.  “Bruce _Wayne?”_   Surely not.

“What other Bruces do you know, Oliver?” she asked with an amused lilt.

“I…wait, this afternoon he was Mr. Wayne.  When did he become Bruce?”

She gave him a look.  “Well, _Mr. Queen_ , really…I’m not going to call him Bruce around the office.  That would be unprofessional.  Where did I leave my phone?” she muttered looking around and feeling her hips like she was looking for invisible pockets.  She started wandering around the room trying to find it.

“Wait, I don’t understand.  When did he become Bruce?”

“Well, I’ve only known him for _years_ , Oliver.”  She rolled her eyes, flipping

through a stack of papers at her desk.

“What.”  His voice was flat, his brow raised in consternation.

She paused to look up.  “Have I honestly never told you this?” she asked.  He shook his head and she sighed.  “Well, I’ve known him for years,” she repeated.  “I mean, honestly, it’s on my resumé.”

“That you’re on first name terms with Bruce Wayne?” he asked, crossing his arms while Felicity returned to her increasingly frantic search for her phone.  “No, no I don’t think that’s on your resumé.”  Because he _definitely_ would have noticed.

“Well my first internship during college was for Wayne Industries,” she explained, disappearing into her room.  “We met then.”

“You never mention him.”

“Well I haven’t seen him in _ages_ ,” she explained, and he followed her to her doorway, where he found her on her hands and knees, checking under the bed.  “But whenever one of us is in the other’s area, we always go for… _drinks_ ,” she chose the word carefully, not meeting his eyes.

“Drinks?”

“Drinks.”

“So…you’re just old friends, then?” he asked, watching her carefully as she stood up and looked around, visually retracing her earlier steps.

“I…um…well, not ‘friends’ per sé…I mean, yeah, no, I guess you could call us th—aha!” she spotted her phone on the floor beside the vanity stool. 

‘There!”  She grabbed it and slipped it into her clutch before smoothing her dress.  “How do I look?” she asked nervously.

 _Way too sexy for a meeting with a friend,_ Oliver thought grimly, eyeing the length of her skirt and the smooth dip of her neckline.  He bit the side of his tongue before answering.  “Fine,” he said simply.

She frowned.  “Really?  That’s it?  I—”

There was a knock at the door and she forgot whatever she was going to say, moving past him to answer the door.

Bruce Wayne, whom Oliver had never really appreciated for the slimy devil he was, grinned upon seeing Felicity, and immediately took her into his arms and swooped down to drop a kiss to her lips,  “Hi, beautiful!” he greeted pleasantly.

“Bruce, please!” Felicity laughed nervously while Oliver’s fists clenched.  
Bruce noticed from her embarrassment that they weren’t alone.  “Oliver!” he said politely, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize Felicity had company.   Nice to see you again,” he said, extending a hand to shake Oliver’s without dropping his arm from around Felicity’s waist.

Oliver clasped Bruce’s hand and squeezed it a little too hard.  The trouble was, Bruce Wayne was plenty strong, not easily intimidated, and happened to already have the girl in his arms.  So the only reaction Oliver got was a light smirk at the corner of Bruce’s mouth as he eyed their gripped hands, until Oliver finally broke the connection.

He shook himself then.  He was being ridiculous.  This was Felicity…he was acting jealous.  He wasn’t jealous, he reconciled mentally, just…protective.  And there was clearly no need.  She had known Wayne for some time, apparently.  She obviously trusted him.  So it was silly to be acting like this.

But he couldn’t help it.  He thought of the way Felicity had hesitated to call Bruce a ‘friend,’ earlier, of the way Bruce had had no problem—in spite of the fact that they hadn’t seen one another in ages—in greeting her with a kiss, and he eyed the familiarity with which Bruce Wayne treated Felicity’s body, his hand currently resting easily on her hip.

The pieces fell together and Oliver’s stomach churned as Felicity gave him an odd look before saying goodbye.

“Good…bye,” he managed, watching Bruce Wayne leave with Felicity, his Felicity, to do God knows what.

Despite Felicity’s request to the contrary, Oliver waited up.

It was almost 3:00 in the morning when he heard the lock to the hotel room door click.  He’d purposefully left his bedroom door open as he laid awake, staring at the ceiling, his intestines tying themselves in knots as he tried to force images of Felicity in someone else’s arms out of his mind.  It was an enlightening experience.

He could admit it.  It wasn’t over-protectiveness like he’d tried to convince himself earlier.  It was straight up, unadulterated jealousy.  He’d felt twinges of it before, seeing Felicity with other men.  Barry, for instance.  But until he saw a man actually kiss her right in front of him, he’d never realized how deeply it ran.

He sat up in bed, his eyes long-since adjusted to the darkness, to watch her silhouette as she stumbled through the door.  She was tipsy, but alone, thank God, and he counted his blessings that she was, in fact, _here_ , and not spending the night somewhere in Bruce Wayne’s arms.  A small consolation, given the circumstances, but a consolation nonetheless.

Felicity braced one arm against the wall, leaning over in the moonlight to slip the shoes from her feet, and Oliver was able to catch the expression on her face.  She appeared to be smiling, but then she straightened up, leaning against the wall, tipping her head back and releasing a little sigh.  Her head turned to the direction of his room and for a brief second he thought she’d seen him and his heart stopped, but then she shook her head slightly and turned away.  There was a buzzing sound and she pulled her phone out of her purse, the screen lighting up her amused expression when she checked what he could only assume was a text from Wayne.  And then finally, she carried herself over to her bedroom, tiredly closing the door behind her.

Oliver dropped backward onto his bed again and cursed himself.

When they got home from this trip…things were going to have to change.


	35. Back to the Heart of It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Olicity has to go undercover as a married couple and they have to go to a married adviser. And they reliease they know more about each other then they knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize, Anon. This isn’t *exactly* what you wanted. But it was what happened. So I went with it. Hopefully it’s close enough to your original request that you won’t mind too much. :)

Felicity was never going to forgive him for this one.  He could tell by the look she was shooting him every time the counselor looked down.  There had been couples mysteriously disappearing in a suburb of Starling City for weeks, and the one thing they al had in common was that they had been to marriage counseling some time in the last month.

So, Diggle had concluded, Diggle and Felicity would have to go undercover as a married couple.

To which Oliver had immediately put his foot down.  If something happened, Oliver would be more able to protect Felicity.  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Diggle.  He just didn’t really trust anyone when it came to Felicity’s safety.  Besides, Lyla was due to go into labor any week now, and he thought it would be wrong to pull Diggle away on the off chance he might miss the birth.

Which essentially made this all Oliver’s fault.  Felicity was growing to hate going undercover, and having Oliver put her in this situation so soon after the “I love you,” debacle with Slade…it hadn’t exactly been sensitive on his part.  And it was no wonder that, when the counselor sat down across from them and asked, “So tell me why you’re here,” Felicity had eagerly jumped in to defame him.

“He’s demanding.  He expects me to drop everything for him all the time.  He doesn’t think about my needs or my feelings.  He’s completely obtuse most of the time.”

“I see.  Oliver…what do you think?”

“I…um…” he tugged at his collar uncomfortably, looking at Felicity.  “I just want to make it work?”

The counselor, Felix, nodded.  “Well that’s the first step.  Felicity, why don’t you tell me about some of the things Oliver does, that make you feel like he doesn’t care about your needs?”

“We’re business partners—”

“Ah, office romance, I see.”

“—and he expects me to work constantly.  I have almost no life outside of him, and when I do try do something on my own, he gets angry at me for not focusing on work.”

Oliver shifted uncomfortably.  He’d been planning to just make shit up for this little therapy session.  Felicity was making it a little too real.  “Oliver?” Felix asked.  “Is this true?”

“I…well, I…I mean, yes, a little.  But I admitted I was wrong about that,” Oliver pointed out, giving Felicity a look.  “I apologized.  Very sincerely, I might add.”

Felicity just narrowed her eyes at him, unmoved.

“Felicity?”

“He did apologize,” she admitted grudgingly.

“But that wasn’t enough for you?”

“No, it was.  But it still gets exhausting.  He needs to know that it’s not healthy for me to not have a life outside of him,” she pointed out to Felix, who nodded his understanding.

“Of course.”

Oliver rolled his eyes.  Oh sure, take her side.

“Hey, we both have a very demanding… _job_.  Sometimes my social life has to take the backseat, too.  But I’m willing to make the sacrifice.”

Felicity rolled her eyes.  “I hate that word,” she mouthed, glaring at Oliver when Felix looked down to write something on his notepad.

“Well, I think this is an excellent starting place,” Felix said, looking up again.  “We obviously need to talk about how you can both find a way to have more reasonable expectations of each other—”

“Damn straight,” Felicity muttered, crossing her arms sulkily.  Oliver rolled his eyes.

“—but why don’t we start with a positive note.  I want to hear about why you two got married.”

“What?” Oliver asked, blinking.

“Tell me what made you get married.  Did you propose to Felicity?  Why did you decide to do that?  And Felicity, what made you say yes?”

Felicity’s mouth fell open slightly and she looked like she had no idea what to say, so, for the sake of the charade, Oliver forced himself to say something, anything, the first thing that came to mind.

He just wasn’t expecting the words that spilled out of his mouth to be so honest.  “She’s the only person I’ve ever known who can make me smile just by entering the room, and she constantly makes me want to be a better person without even trying.”

Felix smiled.  Felicity stared.  Felix turned to Felicity.  “And Felicity?  What made you say yes?”

“I…because he’s far and away the most inspiring person I’ve ever met…and he makes me feel like I have a greater purpose in life.”

Oliver and Felicity stared at each other.  Felicity hiccuped and Oliver cleared his throat, and they both abruptly turned back to Felix, holding their breath.  Felix looked charmed.  “So you see?  Underneath all the frustration, there’s obviously lots of love here.  It’s obviously really good that you chose to seek help, too.  This proves that you _want_ to communicate about your problems.  You both _want_ to make this work.  Friends, communication is everything, and I have every hope that we can work out whatever little issues you’re having and really get back to the heart of what makes you love one another.”  He smiled happily.  “Now let’s talk about this time commitment problem….”


	36. Dibs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: would you write an established Olicity where someone from the JLA shows some interest on Felicity? Maybe a woman.(Not Sara, please). Love your work! Thank you!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh look. I actually kept this at drabble-length. Wasn’t even sure I was capable of that anymore…
> 
> I went with pre-Oracle/paralyzation Batgirl, and a little Garth for fun.

“Uh uh, no way.  I call dibs,” Barbara said when Garth followed her line of sight and his mouth fell open.

“What?  No way, Babs.  C’mon, she’s totally a man’s girl.”

Barbara smirked.  “Then what do you have to be worried about?” she winked, pushing away from the computers and walking over to Oliver and the blonde he’d brought with him.

“Jeez, Greenie,” she grinned.  “Where’ve you been hiding the hottie?”

Oliver narrowed his eyes and Felicity, who had been anxiously standing next to him looking a little shy from the moment she walked in, blushed.

“Felicity, this is—”

“Barbara Gordon, Batgirl.  Call me Babs.”  She winked.  “All my _close_ friends do.”

Felicity, politely shook Barbara’s hand.  “Felicity Smoak.  IT…person.  Call me…uh, Felicity?” she shrugged pleasantly.

“ _You’re_ Felicity?” she said, delighted.  “ _The_ Felicity?  The one Oliver won’t shut up about?” she nudged Oliver.  “God, no wonder you never brought her around before!  I was starting to wonder.  Oliver, beautiful women should _never_ be locked away from the rest of the world.  Okay, Felicity,” she grinned, linking arms with Felicity and dragging her away from Oliver, who suddenly felt a little nervous about the look Barbara was giving Felicity, “you have to talk to me about this new system the boys installed.  I’m great with computers, but I’m only learning, and I’d love your take on—”

“Hey, Babs, introduce me to the new girl,” Garth interrupted, and Oliver rolled his eyes before burying his face in the palm of his hand.  He was never taking her anywhere.  Ever again.


	37. Let Her Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Ray Palmer confronts Oliver, telling him he knows Felicity is not in love with him YET but it will happen and he would never make Oliver's mistake of letting her go. Maybe this inspires something within Oliver? :)

“How do you do it?” Ray asked, turning to stand beside Oliver as they both watched Felicity walk away.

“Do what?” Oliver asked, raising an eyebrow at the other man.

“Just…let her walk away from you. Every day.”

Oliver felt his chest tighten as he looked back at Felicity, who was hailing a cab home. “I…”

“Listen, I know you don’t approve. And I get it. You’re protective. She’s your girl. But I just…I think you should know that…I mean, I know. I know she’s not in love with me. Yet. But I think she will be. Give it time. I don’t know what’s stopped you all these years—that’s between you and her—but I understand that you care about her and I’m not going to hurt her. I’ll never let her go, not unless it’s what she wants.” He said it man-to-man, a promise in good faith. He thought he was comforting the man who didn’t trust anyone near ‘his girl.’

But Oliver, looking at Ray’s sincere face, realized that he was looking into the eyes of the man who was about to take everything from him. Ray Palmer wasn’t a bad guy…quite the contrary. He was all the things that Felicity deserved, but Oliver was suddenly realizing that maybe, in spite of what he’d been telling himself for all this time, he didn’t want Felicity to get her happy ending with some other guy. Even if that guy was as good as Ray Palmer.

He wanted her to be happy with him.

So Oliver didn’t respond. He gave made a noncommittal nod of his head, before heading his own way down the busy sidewalk.

He needed to sort out his priorities…and fast. Or there was a very good chance he was going to be watching Felicity fall in love with Ray, just like Ray had said. And with a gritting of his teeth, Oliver realized he wasn’t sure he could stand to watch that.


	38. The First of Many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: "Just the two of us?" - felicity to oliver asking her out on a date

“Let’s do something.”

“What do you mean?”

Oliver shrugged.  “I mean let’s go out.”

She frowned at him, turning in her chair, the better to scrutinize him.  “What, like…just the two of us?”

“Well…yeah,” he said, “if you want.”

“Like…to do what?”

He shrugged again, hands stuffed in his pockets.  “Whatever you want.  We can go to a movie.  Or dancing.  I think they have wine tastings at that restaurant you like so much on Saturdays,” he suggested various alternatives.  “I just feel like getting out.”

“And taking me with you?” she asked, still not fully grasping the idea.

He chuckled.  “Yeah, that was the idea.  Unless you don’t want t—”

“No, no!” Felicity said, holding up a hand.  “I’m just trying to be clear.  You want to go out.  With just me.  Alone.  On a Saturday night.  For…a wine tasting?”

He tipped his head back and sighed.  “You’re making this far more difficult than I’d been hoping you would.”

“So this was a premeditated decision?”

“Felicityyyy!”

“Okay, okay,” she held up her hands in surrender.  “I’ll just…get my coat,” she said, giving him a weird look as she rose from her chair.  “So, you’re sure about this?” she asked, grabbing her coat from a hook in the corner.

“Felicity!  Yes!” he laughed.  “I’m sure!”

She looked him over.  “Huh.  Well,” she said, walking past him for the door as she slipped her arms into her coat.  “Wine tasting it is.  But only because I love wine and I know you’re buying.”

“Aw, what?” he asked following her up the stairs.  “So you wouldn’t want to spend time with me otherwise?” he teased, a knowing smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling.  “You overestimate your charms,” she lied as they both headed out the door for the first of many such outings.


	39. A Place Like This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: could you write an AU where felicity and oliver are on the same college tour? I could totally see oliver being dragged to some ivy league and being incredibly disengaged until he spots a certain blonde in the same group as him.

“This is pointless.”

“It’s not pointless,” Tommy reminded him.  “Your Dad promised if we hit all the schools on his list for tours, then you get the motorcycle.  We’re doing this.”

Oliver snorted.  “Any admissions advisor here would have to be off his damn rocker to let either of us into this school.”

“Would you shut up?  I can’t hear what the tour guide’s saying.”

Oliver glared.  “Why would you care?”

“I don’t.  But she’s hot.  I’m thinking maybe we can get her to invite us to a greek party while we’re in town.”

“Right.  Because I’m sure the students here throw total ragers.”  He rolled his eyes, amused.  Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he looked around for something to entertain him other than such and such person who donated a bunch of money and got their name slapped on the computer lab.  And then he spotted her.  His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.

Leaning over for a closer inspection of one of the state-of-the-art computers was a vivacious looking blonde with bubblegum pink lips, her tongue snared between her teeth as she looked absolutely fascinated by something the campus guide had just mentioned about the technology in the lab.

This day had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.  Oliver waited until the group started retreating from the lab, moving onto the next location, to sidle up next to her.

“Hi, I’m Ollie,” he introduced himself, grinning as he leaned in beside her.

She looked surprised at being spoken to.  “Um…Felicity.”

His grin widened.  “Where’re you from Felicity?”

She hesitated, giving him a subtle appraisal as she followed the group. “Nevada.”

“Like Vegas?  Sweet.”

“There you are,” Tommy interrupted, appearing at Oliver’s side.  “I blinked and you were gone.”  He spotted Felicity and grinned.  “Who’s this?”

“This,” Oliver informed him, “is Felicity.  She’s from Vegas.”

“I never said—”

“She joining us tonight?” Tommy asked.

“Definitely.”

“Excuse me?” Felicity waved a hand between the two boys’ faces. 

“Exactly what do you think I’m joining you for?”

“Tommy’s gonna get us into a frat party.”

Felicity raised an eyebrow at him.  “Uh huh.”  He was cute, she’d give him that.  But he was kind of coming off as a tool so far.

“Didn’t you ask her?” Tommy asked.  Oliver shook his head, and Tommy rolled his eyes, moving around the pair as they trudged across the campus so he could stand on the other side of Felicity.  “Apologies for my neanderthal best friend,” he said charmingly, and Felicity couldn’t help giggling.  “Felicity, was it?”  She nodded.  “Would you like to come to a party with us tonight?”

She bit her lip and Oliver’s stomach flipped, watching the movement of those perfectly painted pink lips.  “I…maybe…I don’t know.”

“Come on,” Tommy teased.  “If you don’t go, Ollie here’s gonna die of a broken heart.  Look at him,” he prompted, “look at that puppy-dog face.  Do you really want to be responsible for inflicting that kind of pain?”

Felicity laughed as Tommy gestured his best friend and Oliver pretended to be deeply wounded.  “I mean…I guess…sure.”

“Great,” Oliver said, throwing an arm around her shoulder, smirking at the way she blushed.  He’d like to find out what else could make her blush like that.  “It’s settled then.  You can tell me all about what a nice, pretty girl from Vegas is doing in a place like this.”

She gave him a look.  “We’re at Princeton.”

“My point exactly.”


	40. One Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Oliver has to pick up Felicity from jail lol

“You?” Lance said dubiously.  “Of all the people in the world, you’re Felicity Smoak’s one phone call?”

Oliver glowered at him.  It was way too late at night to be getting cheap shots from Lance.

“Well,” Lance sighed, shrugging.  “I guess she knew you’d be good for the bail money.  C’mon, I’ll take you to her.”

“What did she do?”

Lance chuckled.  “I let her explain that one to you.  I still don’t think I’ve got the story perfectly straight.”

Oliver found Felicity sitting in her cell, drumming her aqua-painted fingernails in irritation. She looked up when she saw him.  “Finally!” she threw her head back in relief.

Lance unlocked the cell and let her out.  “Stay out of trouble, Miss Smoak,” he sighed with a shake of his head.  Oliver got the distinct impression that he was fighting a smile.

When they were outside, Oliver shrugged out of his leather jacket and placed it around her shoulders.  “Thanks,” she said, rubbing her arms for warmth beneath the jacket.  “I accidentally left mine behind.”

“So,” Oliver grinned.  “You wanna explain why I just picked you up from jail?”

“Not really.”

“What did you do?” he asked curiously.

She released a puff of air.  “Depends on who you ask.  But according to the police, I assaulted a cop.”

“What?”

“I didn’t know he was a cop!” she defended herself.  “I was at a bar.  He was hitting on me.  I’d already heard him being douche-y and talking about how he’s going to be the one who eventually brings in the vigilante,” she imitated the guy with disdain.  “So I told him to buzz off.  But he pushed his luck.  So I threw my drink at him.  Which he did not take kindly to.”

Oliver, who was trying very hard not to laugh, struggled to ask, “And they called that assault?”

“No, they called it assault when he tried to catch me on my way out the bar and I took a swing at him.”  She shrugged.  “To be fair, I’d had a few drinks.  And I didn’t know what he was gonna do, so I reacted on instinct.  But I guess I wounded his pride,” she smirked.  “Asshole.”

Oliver chuckled.  “Right.  So…” he frowned.  “What exactly were you doing at a bar at this hour by yourself?” he looked at his watch.

She gave him a dry look.  “Oliver, what do women normally go to bars by themselves for?”

He quirked an eyebrow at her in surprise, stopping in his tracks. 

“I…what?”

“Oh for God’s sake,” she rolled her eyes as she brushed past him.  “I was looking to get laid, Oliver.  I have needs, you know!” she said matter-of-factly, ignoring the stricken expression on his face.  “Honestly, you and Digg act like I’m this little pristine example of purity.”  She snorted.

Finally processing this information, Oliver caught back up to her and leaned into her ear, whispering with a devilish smirk, “Well, Felicity, you didn’t need to go to a bar to find someone to take you to bed.”


	41. Swift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Can you do Olicity having their first kiss like Scott and Kira in Teen Wolf? Like he just kisses her before he goes on a mission or something?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a fan favorite
> 
> short and sweet—but I’m not gonna lie, I may do a short follow up to this one later.

"Got it!" Felicity announced triumphantly.  "This is where he’s hiding," she informed Oliver, pleased as she spun her chair around to face him.

Oliver, zipping up his hood for yet another night as the Arrow, leaned over her to look at the map on the monitor.  “Great.  This should be pretty cut and dry.”

"Don’t stay out too late now," Felicity joked, reaching over to fix a crease in his hood absentmindedly.

Oliver grinned.  “I won’t,” he promised.  “See you later,” he added, pressing a swift kiss to her lips before heading for the door, leaving Felicity behind, sitting in stunned silence.

No one could see the way Oliver’s eyes were widening in horror beneath his mask as realization donned on him.

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath when the door closed safely behind him.

Meanwhile, mouth open in shock, Felicity turned to Digg, who was smothering a laugh.  “Wh—what just happened?”

In response to which Diggle dissolved into laughter.


	42. The Last Man You Kissed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Team Arrow undercover in a club out of town: what they don't know is that it's a swingers' club and O/F find themselves in a tight spot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to readily confess this is not my favorite piece I've done. But I do at least like how it ended.

In retrospect, maybe, just maybe, they should have done their research before storming the building.  It had been a simple plan: Infiltrate the party, pin the bug on their target, get out.

Oliver had even taken Felicity along for assistance, assuming it would be the perfect guise, bringing a ‘date.’

It was just…they hadn’t realized what kind of party this was that they were crashing.

 _“Oliver,”_ Felicity hissed into his ear, _“we have to leave!”_

But Oliver, shoulders tense with discomfort, shook his head subtly.  “We can’t.  This is the only time we’ve known a definite spot that Wheeler is going to be.  We just have to blend in until we find him.”

“Blend…?  _Blend in?”_ she repeated incredulously.  “Oliver, look around you!”

As it happened, Oliver was doing his best not to look around him.  Everywhere he turned there were couples—and the occasional trios—seducing one another.  The ones who were full-on having sex were disappearing into private rooms, but that didn’t mean anyone out here was being modest.  Buttons and zippers were being discarded as an inconvenience and hands were wandering liberally, without any concern whatsoever.

Beside him, Felicity took a deep breath.  “So…Wheeler is definitely here, right?”

Oliver nodded.  “Somewhere.”  The notorious drug-lord who had developed some sort of inhibition-counteracting formula was here somewhere, meeting with contacts from other cities across the countries to bring his new drug nation-wide.  It was already the scourge of Starling.  They couldn’t let it leave the city.  And it was their one chance to get a peg on him, a bug that would record everything he did so that they could finally nail him.  Wheeler was a tough man to pin down, and this was the first time in months that they’d known for sure where he was going to be.

With all this in mind, Felicity’s jaw set and she nodded.  “Well,” she sighed, slipping her arms around his elbow and leaning closer, “act like you’re attracted to me,” she joked.

Body relaxing slightly when she took this gung-ho attitude, Oliver grabbed her waist and pulled her against him.  “Felicity, that’s not difficult to do, you know,” he teased her, leading her along in hopes of finding Wheeler sooner than later.

Acting like they were looking for a private room was one thing.  But trying to keep her eyes to herself?  Felicity was having a little bit of a struggle.  Everything around them was just so damned erotic.  A beautiful brunette in a sophisticated black dress was letting a man kiss his way down her throat on a sofa.  Across the room, two women were making out while a man watched, sipping from a glass of whiskey and looking like he knew exactly how his night was going to end.

Feeling Oliver’s firm grip on her hip, Felicity chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying to ignore the feeling of low warmth spreading through her stomach.  She dared a glance at him, but his jaw was set, and she couldn’t make heads or tails of whether or not this was causing in similar reaction in him.

It was.  As they ‘accidentally’ barged in on several rooms, walking in on more and more explicit scenes as they went, Oliver was struggling to keep a tight grip on his sanity…and a loose one on Felicity.  Staying away from her was difficult enough under typical circumstances.  This…was uncomfortable, to say the least.

Worse still was that they were starting to draw attention to themselves.  “Oliver…are you starting to feel—”

“Like the only people at a nude beach who kept their clothes on?” he filled in for her.  She gave him a sheepish expression.  It was a humorous analogy, but the fact was, keeping your clothes on at a nude beach didn’t look good.  And it _wasn’t_ blending in.

Before they reached a solution for their unfortunate dilemma, they finally spotted him.

Wheeler had emerged from another room, cigar in one hand, drink in the other.  He was exactly like his only photograph: tall, dark, and handsome and with demonic eyes that sent a chill down Felicity’s spine.

“That’s him,” Oliver said unnecessarily.  “We just have to get close enough t—”

“Leave it to me,” Felicity said, “I have an idea.”

She just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.  So before she could let her nerves talk her out of it, she flung herself in Wheeler’s direction.

Oliver’s eyes might have popped out of his skull, giving him away if anyone had been watching when Felicity grabbed Wheeler by the tie and pulled him into a searing kiss.  “That’s my fiancé,” he heard her say.  “He likes to watch.”

Wheeler, grinning with the satisfaction of completed business and a beautiful woman in his arms, smirked knowingly at Oliver and pushed open the door to an empty room, letting Felicity pull him inside.

Growling and cracking his knuckles with irritation, Oliver followed them.  Kicking the door shut in one swift movement, he took advantage of Wheeler’s distraction and had a knockout dart in his neck a nanosecond later.  He would wake up hours later thinking he had had a little too much to drink.

Felicity, pulling a small device from her clutch, quickly undid the watch on Wheeler’s wrist, planted the bug, replaced it on Wheeler’s arm, and smoothed her hair.  Looking at Oliver, who was wearing an unreadable expression, she pleaded, “Can we go home _now?”_   She wanted to brush her teeth.  Twenty times at least.

He nodded.  “One thing first.”

“What?” she asked curiously.

Oliver grabbed her by the waist and hauled her against him.  Without hesitation, he buried a hand in her hair and kissed her, hard.  His tongue swept her mouth and she clutched his shoulders in surprise before he finally pulled back and she gave him a questioning look.

“I wasn’t going to let _Wheeler_ be the last guy you kissed,” he said simply, gesturing Wheeler’s unconscious body on the floor.

Touching her lips faintly, Felicity glanced at Wheeler before following Oliver toward the door.  “Right,” she said.  “Thanks for that.”


	43. Slippery When Wet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prompt: Can you do one where Oliver can't reach Felicity and breaks into her apartment only to find her have a bath ;)

Oliver made a frustrated noise, hanging up on Felicity’s voicemail for the third time.

“Relax, bro.  It’s her night off.  She probably put her phone on silent,” Roy reminded him, placing a comforting hand on Oliver’s shoulder.  “Don’t read so much into it.”

Oliver nodded, but he didn’t entirely agree.  Yes, Felicity had asked to be left alone for the night.  But she never turned her phone off.  And she never missed his calls.  He couldn’t shake the feeling that something might be wrong.  And with each second that ticked by that she didn’t call him back, Oliver was growing more and more nervous.

So when the time came to head in for the night, he took a left on his bike instead of a right, heading in the direction of Felicity’s apartment.

————

Felicity’s phone, as it happened, was plugged in to an outlet in her kitchen, charging beside her tablet.  Taking full advantage of her evening off, Felicity had spent the first half of the evening doing laundry, headphones in as she danced around the apartment to her music, which had eventually drained the battery until it shut off.  She’d made dinner while her phone charged, finally regaining enough power to turn itself back on, and shortly after that, having not heard from Oliver all evening and therefore assuming it must be a slow night, she’d abandoned it to run herself a bath.  Wrapped in a tangerine colored towel, she’d piled her hair on top of her head while she generously poured aroma therapy bubble bath into the water as the tub filled, then turned on her radio at the moment the first call went through.  Over the sound of the bath water and the music and through the closed bathroom door, she hadn’t heard that call.  Or the second one, or the third one.  Or the following text message which read:

»» hey, sorry if I’m just bugging you on your night off.  Had a tech question but now just wanna be sure you’re okay.  Text me back to let me know you’re all right.

Shutting the water off and blissfully unaware of Oliver’s anxiety, Felicity had groaned in luxurious pleasure as she dropped her towel and slipped into the hot water.  It was a massive relief to let her aching bones soak in the steaming hot water, her bathroom lights dimmed and candles flickering against the walls instead.  She soaked for ages, occasionally changing out the water to keep it hot, washing her hair, massaging her feet, humming along to the radio.

She didn’t hear the sound of Oliver knocking at her front door on the lower level.

Oliver, downstairs, was growing still more worried.  The GPS showed that her phone was definitely here, or he would assume she’d gone out.  As it was, he couldn’t even see if there was a light coming from her apartment. She might be sleeping, but the voice in the back of his head pointed out that he’d called three times.  Even if she were sleeping, Felicity wouldn’t have ignored that.

Scaling the small fire escape on the side of the old brownstone, Oliver reached Felicity’s bedroom window and immediately saw that her bed was empty.  Seized with images of her lying unconscious, trapped in her own home—or perhaps worse still, of finding the place empty with signs of a struggle, indicating she’d been carried off by some unknown adversary.

Without hesitation, Oliver pried open her window and slipped inside.

He was hit by the sound of muffled music, and relief swept over him.  That was a good sign.  But no lights…what was going on?

Before he could piece anything else together, Felicity switched on the lights in her bathroom and pushed open the door.  Leaning over to blow out the last of the candles on her counter, she rubbed a towel over her hair before looking up to find a frozen, stricken-looking Oliver standing in her bedroom.

Felicity shrieked.

Oliver yelled in surprise.

“OH MY GOD!” Felicity screamed, clutching the towel to her body instead.  “Oh my God!  What are you doing here?”  She swore, her heart still pounding.  “Would you cover your eyes, please?”

Snapping to his senses, Oliver slapped a hand over his eyes, but the image of Felicity, stark naked and flushed from the steamy bath, leaning over to blow out a candle, her wet hair dripping down her back and chest…that was emblazoned in Oliver’s memory forever.

Scrambling to wrap her towel around herself, Felicity returned to her previous squawking.  “What in the hell are you doing in my apartment, Oliver?”

“I just…I was…you didn’t answer your phone.  I got worried.”

Clicking her tongue in frustration, Felicity rolled her eyes.  “I’m decent, you can open your eyes.”

Oliver split his fingers a crack to be sure, then swallowed tightly as he lowered his hand.  Felicity in a small orange towel didn’t fall under a category he would label as ‘decent.’  “I’m really sorry,” he told her honestly.  “You just…weren’t answering your phone,” he finished lamely.

“Yeah,” she said, heading to the kitchen.  Oliver followed her.  “It was charging.  See.” she said, holding up the device for him while clutching the towel tightly with her other hand.

Sheepishly, Oliver scratched the back of his head.  “In my defense, you always answer your phone.”  He tried not to follow the line a drop of water was trailing down her throat, dropping between her breasts, beneath the towel and out of sight.  Clearing his throat, he looked away, ignoring the blood in his body that was swiftly rushing south.

Exasperated, Felicity shook her head.  “Well, you might as well stay for a cup of cocoa.  It’s starting to rain out there.”  She glanced at the window where the first few splatters of rain were starting to lash against the house.  “I’ll go get some clothes,” she said, starting to move around him at the same time Oliver tried to move out of her way, but stepped in the wrong direction.  Knocking into him by accident, her foot slipped back against the small puddle of water she’d been dripping on the tile of her kitchen.  With a yelp of surprise, she fell back, automatically grabbing at Oliver’s arm to steady herself, but accidentally pulling him down with her.  “Oof!” Felicity cried out as he landed on top her.

“I’m sorry, are you okay?” Oliver asked, trying to push himself up but catching the same puddle of water and slipping, landing on her a second time.

Felicity laughed, wheezing as she tried to gasp for breath under his weight.  “This is ridiculous.  Ugh, Oliver, get off me,” Felicity shoved at him, her towel slipping slightly lower as she did so.

Oliver couldn’t help laughing as well, though he was very painfully aware of the incredibly thin, easily-removable boundary between the two of them.  It would be so easy.  He could grab her hand and lace their fingers together, lifting them over her head while he claimed her lips.  One brush of his free hand and he could push the towel aside and cup the soft swell of her breast.  She’d moan raggedly into his mouth, arching against him, and—

He shook himself, shifting his weight off of her before slowly standing up, then offering her a hand, determinedly not eyeing the smooth expanse of her legs, and trying not to think about the overwhelming scent of lavender she was emanating.

Not having noticed that anything unusual had passed, Felicity grinned, embarrassed.  “Sorry.  So…like I said…clothes…”  This time, a little more carefully, she navigated herself past him before disappearing back into her bedroom.

Oliver was grateful to have her out of sight for a moment, taking a deep breath before grabbing a nearby dishtowel and dropping it on the puddle on the floor to mop it up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last one! I'll open up a new collection when I start filling prompts again in August. :)
> 
> Thanks for all the great feedback, everyone! I really enjoy reading your comments!


	44. He Always Picks Up For Her Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a little time one afternoon and decided to try to catch up on one or two of those follow-ups I had promised before I got back to answering prompts. Hope you guys enjoy!

When Oliver had arrived at Verdant, flowers in hand (thank God for 24/7 Gas stations), he hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect. Sara and Felicity had called him almost an hour ago, and even then they had sounded drunkenly giddy.

A person could cause a lot of damage in one hour. Easily.

They didn’t see him at first. Sara had obviously found a way to turn on the club’s music, and Roy had pulled Felicity up onto the bar to dance with her, Felicity drunkenly laughing as she clumsily let him spin her around and dip her low. Sara was behind the bar laughing at them as she shook a martini shaker full of something white. She spotted Oliver first.

“Ollie!” she cried out happily.

Felicity almost fell off the bar in surprise, and Oliver stepped forward automatically as Roy just barely managed to catch her.

“You guys are gonna get hurt up there,” he said mildly, though with a hint of worry in his voice.

“You came!” Felicity said delightedly, jumping up and down while a wide-eyed Roy made sure she didn’t go toppling down.

_“Told you,”_ Roy and Sara chimed simultaneously.

Oliver grinned. “Happy Birthday, Felicity,” he said as he reached the bar where she beamed at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t know earlier or I would have done something nice for you.”

Felicity waved him off, rolling her eyes. “You’re always nice to me.” She paused. “Well, except when you’re mean to me. But in between those times you’re always nice to me. Mostly. Are those for me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, carefully helping her down from the bar and handing her the flower arrangement. “I didn’t have time to come up with anything else.”

“Thank you,” she said sweetly, a little slurred, and giving him a big, genuine smile as she clutched the flowers.

Sara, meanwhile, was pouring the suspicious white mixture into shot glasses before beckoning everyone over. “All right, birthday cake shots, everyone!” she said, passing the glasses out over the bar. Oliver took one warily, eyeing Felicity, who he really didn’t think needed to be drinking any more, but Sara was already raising her glass. “To Felicity!”

“Felicity!” Roy shouted happily, raising his glass and tipping it back.

“Me!” Felicity agreed in a chipper voice before throwing back her own shot.

Oliver downed his as well, smacking his lips. It was creamy and sweet and…actually kind of tasted like birthday cake. “What is this?” he asked curiously.

“Wild Shot, Ameretto, vanilla liqueur, creme de cacao, Godiva White Chocolate liqueur, and heavy cream,” Sara wiggled her eyebrows, holding up the cream as she described it. “All the yummy, fattening goodness of birthday cake in one conveniently tiny and potent glass,” she winked before pouring another round and passing them out. “Here, birthday girl,” she added, taking Felicity’s flowers, “I’ll find some water for these.”

“So why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?” Oliver asked as Felicity drank her second shot. He eyed his own glass warily. It was strong.

She shrugged. “I don’t make a fuss for my birthday. I just…maybe take the day off work. Have a bubble bath and a glass of champagne and stay up late with a good sci-fi movie or something.”

“You didn’t take the day off,” he pointed out. He would have been concerned if she had.

“That’s because then I wouldn’t have seen you on my birthday. And I like to see you. Best part of my day,” she said matter-of-factly as Oliver’s heart throbbed. “I like this song!” she said suddenly, distracted as a new song came over the speakers. “I want to dance again!” she announced. “Sara, come dance with me,” she begged, leaning eagerly across the bar and kicking her feet happily in the air as she did so.

“Anything for the birthday girl,” Sara said, climbing onto the bar and pulling Felicity up with her.

Roy watched them start grinding loosely before leaning over to Oliver. 

“Dude. Seriously, how did you not know it was her birthday?”

“Did _you_ know?” Oliver glared.

Roy shrugged. “No, but we’re not talking about me.”

“How was I supposed to know if she didn’t tell me?”

Roy just raised an eyebrow at him. “Whatever bro. If it were me, I’d have made a point to know.” He set down his shot glass before climbing up on the bar and joining the girls, Oliver glaring at him as he went. Just what was Roy implying?

Sara started beckoning him. “Ollie, you’re being a stick in the mud!” she accused.

Sighing, he climbed up on the bar with him, his body humming as he tentatively slipped a hand over Felicity’s hip as he pulled her back against him while Sara continued dancing with Roy.

It was nice to see Felicity feeling so carefree. So often she had a worried little crease in her brow these days, revealing how taxing her life had become in the subtlest of ways. Most people wouldn’t have noticed, but Oliver did.

She leaned back against him, her head resting on his shoulder as she relaxed into his arms, the loud music pulsing through them, and he worried anxiously that perhaps this was too intimate. He danced such a fine line with Felicity, was always so careful not to cross it. But he knew she’d be upset if he stepped away, and it was her birthday. He wasn’t going to mess with her head like that right now, playing hot and cold with her.

One of her hands slid around his neck while the other came to rest over his hand on her hip and he closed his eyes, sucking in a sharp breath. _Damn it, Felicity. You’re much too drunk for your own good right now._

“All right, Ollie,” Sara shouted, interrupting the dark turn of his thoughts and causing everyone to look up at her. “Is this birthday girl gonna get a kiss tonight or do we have to go to the Pony?” she demanded.

Oliver felt his face heat. He was hoping that Sara had conveniently forgotten that train of thought from earlier.

“Yeah, kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Roy chanted, grinning deviously as Sara joined him chanting.

Oh hell with it, Oliver thought, his two shots obviously making him bold as he spun Felicity around to face him, wrapped an arm around her waist and—before she could react—laid a deliberate kiss on her, dipping her back so that she clung to him as her leg popped into the air.

“WOOOOOOO!” Roy cheered as Sara whistled wolfishly.

Oliver set Felicity upright, grinning at her disheveled appearance. “Happy birthday, Felicity,” he told her, bumping his nose against hers while Sara hopped down from the bar hollering something about more shots.

"You taste like cake," Felicity informed Oliver, and he laughed. "Really yummy cake."


	45. Chaste (Swift—Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follow-up to the fan- and personal-favorite, ‘Swift.’

“What is _up_ with you?” Roy growled into his comm. Oliver was acting weird, tense even.

“I…kissed Felicity.”

“What? Bro, that is awesome!” Roy said, stopping in his tracks altogether he was so surprised.

“No…I…it was an accident.”

Roy sniggered. “What, like she tripped and your lips caught her fall or something?” He snorted, returned to his sweep of Starling, landing on another rooftop as they scanned the streets for any disturbances.

“I wasn’t thinking about it. I don’t even know what came over me. I just…kissed her goodbye like some 50-year-old husband kissing his wife goodbye in the morning before leaving for the office.” Oliver shook his head at himself, still hardly believing what he’d done. It was mortifying.

“Ah. ‘Chaste.’ That would be the word you’re looking for, bro.”

There was a terse silence over the communicators, and Roy smirked in amusement.

“Well that’s what you get for putting it off for so long, dude. I mean, for real, I’ve been waiting on you two to actually admit that you’re dating each other subconsciously since I met you.”

“She probably hates me right now.”

Roy chuckled.

“Glad I amuse you,” Oliver growled, dropping down to street level to put an end to a purse snatching, using a tiny bit more force than was strictly necessary in his frustration.

“Well, you’re gonna have to face her eventually, you know.”

“I know,” Oliver said after he handed the woman her purse back and she took off in fear. His stomach dropped at the thought. Yes, she probably hated him.

“I recommend not kissing her like you’re pecking your grandma on the cheek. Maybe go for something a little more dramatic this time,” Roy suggested, and Oliver glowered irritably.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” he said tersely. He knew one thing for certain, though, the next time he kissed Felicity—and there was going to be a next time all right—it was going to be anything but ‘chaste.’


End file.
